The Feiring Line

Reynald Héaulé

 "That must be it," I said to Jonathan Wurdeman  behind the wheel. Since my arrival in Paris a week before, I'd been hanging with the guys from Pheasant's Tears--driving, eating, drinking, visiting vineyards (Puzelat and Clos Roche Blanche) and talking. Jonathan's wine partner, and winemaker, Gela Patailashvili, was gallantly squished into back seat with the bags and baguettes. They were weary from their debut at La Dive, and I was weary from my three weeks on the road and headcold. But no time for that. We were hunting down a man who's wines have always impressed me, Reynald Héaulé. 

There are some wines that greet you with a smile, then you don't exactly have a make out session or get into bed, but you slip into a long enduring, satisfying friendship/ flirtation. That's exactly the way I feel about the wines of Reynald Héaulé. Which is why when he said, and you will stay to lunch and I don't care that you are four and two of you are vegetarian, I rearranged plans and delayed my arrival in Paris. Oh, my other three friends was Philippe, a nearby film/winemaker who always wanted to meet this supposedly reclusive Reynald, and my two  Georgian friends. 

We arrived in Saint-André-Cléry, not far from Beaugency, that used to be t a ritzy wine area in the 17c.   But now, it might as well be the Canary Islands,  (what? they make wine there?)

Philippe had just parked his van, in front of some dreary, British Isle like houses.  Reynaldemerged from his vines, in back of his father's house. He is a compact, firm man, bursting with a nervous fervor. He has the quick, fierce movements  of someone who's body language speaks even more than his words. There's a tremendous amount of emotion packed into that man. After introductions, we followed him to his vineyards nearby, in the deep freeze that was coming into France. 

He has  3 hectares or a few parcels, and a chunk of one  in old river bed, with whatever geological matter had been washed in it: pebbles, tuffeaux, silica, silex. So the flat is way more interesting that you might at first think. In his  plantings he's followed his mentor Claude Courtois; planted to a variety of grapes. Amongst the chardonnay and pinot meunier (which he is known for)  is romo and the sauvignon are some hybrids like marechal foch and seibel (planted in the 1950s), all in extremely high density.

New plantings in the snow, soil bursting with life. Much silex down below. As with his others, extreme high density and along the neweset plantings is a hedge, that will grow up and provide shelter from nearby chemical farming.

I knew that I had been charmed by Reynald's wines but would my fellow travelers? So far I'd become sensitive to Gela's taste. Having rarely been outside of Georgia his ability to sample other wines has been limited. But his palate is very sensitive and specific. He likes strong reds even though I saw him warming up to gamay, but what I mostly saw him cleave to was that nerve inside of a wine that spoke to life.

Tasting through the barrels, he had one, a chardonnay from 2004 that he keeps just for himself. Complex, wildflowery, layered.  Then there was the old vine chardonnay: exreme, mint, herbal and lively.By this time, however, the Georgian's were already convinced, it was the 2010 white blend,  romo, sauvingon, chardonnay and whatever, which at that point had 2.5 years in wood that provoked the bThe wine really was electric. Gela's eyes said it all, then he said to John in Georgian, it was the best wine he'd had.  Like Reynald. The young vigneron smiled has a smile,  as if he is packing a lecture inside of it. Even though he's inclined to blurt out comments through the smile such as "2011 was a bad year, I had a hernia operation and my wife left," that smile and the wines, his generosity, were what really spoke for him.   

 

Wines to look for: Contre Courant 2009 (pinot menuier)

                                Insoumis de Village (field blend)

                                Rive Droit (chardonnay) 

Madrid drinking with the boys (Victor and José)

 Victor de la Serna is  the influential Elmundo journalist, I've become chatty with over on Twitter (@VictordelaSerna).  He's also the  force behind Elmundovino and his label, Finca Sandoval. And when José suggested we all have lunch, Victor turned it into a classic Madrid  jeebus at one of his favorite joints, Asturianos. (great wine list, older vintages, and food? An address you'll need to bookmark.)

Our newly expanded guest list included the Dutch ex-pat Richard van Oorschot, winemakers Fabio Bartolomei (Vino Ambiz, to you)  and Alfredo Maestro, as well as blogger, Nacho Bueno. As I was too busy drinking and getting more and more jetlagged, go to Nacho or Fabio's blog to get the wine's blow down.

 Unstoppable Victor brought about 17 bottles. José brought a few as did Alfredo Maestro and Fabio. But, how happy is a girl if the first thing that gets shoved into her hand an hour of the plane but Band-Aid/caramel-ish La Bota Manzanilla #32?  Very.

Some of the more memorable wines that night?  Niepoort-Navazos 2009. Palamino, the more famed grape of sherry, that developed flor, where it stayed  for 6-7 months and not fortified. Metallic, juicy, minty.

Victor, forever the educator,  put together an Albillo trio, partly perhaps in response to a tweet of mine, about   Alfredo's Lovamor.  

On tap for us in the little vertical were: Reto 2010 Ponce (Manchuela), from (Victor's DO)  had too much lees stirring, was angular and gingerale. Next. The Nispero 2009 Efrosina Perez Rodriguez was in honor of my departure to La Palma. This, which had been celebrated, was the reason for a current Albillo craze on the islands. It was all celery leaf. And then came the pithy, apple-juice-like Lovamor from Alfredo. The fourth, was the 2010 Picarana Maranones; oak influence way more than the wine could handle.

A note about the food. Yum factor very high, especially the barely poached egg sitting atop a black sea of trumpet mushrooms.....and these delightful fishies (that sighed, Manzanilla, with each swallow)    

The afternoon turned to night. With some quick thinking, José and I left with yet another bottle of 32, which was to be a lifesaver three days later in Tenerife. But while we were standing contemplating the next move in the increasingly icy Sunday evening,, Fabio insisted we head out to this fabulous gin bar.

It wasn't fabulous. In fact it was a little Coney Island but not as good. (sorry Fabio).  But, this was just a subversive plot so they could get their drink and smoke on simultaneously. Sitting there under a sheepskin rug (frankly, a little creepy) on a makeshift al fresco platform, Richard lost (and found the next day) his wedding ring through the slats. And I was trying to figure out why I wasn't in bed, why I was risking the next three weeks to pneumonia.The place was damned cold, too cold to drink a martini, and I really wasn't ready to start smoking out of self-defense.  But, okay, fun in is way.       

                                 PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

 

Ten days later, after three Canaries, multiple volcanos, Dr. Spoof #1 and #2, and a few great old vines and surprises and real, genuine Superman on the mountain who made wine in Canary pine,a meeting with a potato witch, more rojas than can kill a roach and a camel ride, José and I were back in Madrid. Checking in to the hotel José told me he really needed champagne, badly. I could understand. We also really wanted something old. The oldest wine I'd had was a sublime 1984 listan negro-based field blend from Monje, foot stomped in old lagar, whole cluster. Tasted like an old barolo.  We were salivating.

We had twenty minutes before Victor picked us up. Stressful as for ten days I had worn the same clothes (did get to change my underwear, hope this isn't TMI).  I was feeling grossly gross. The reason for this unspeakable marathon was José. He was smoking like a fiend. Not wanting to stink everything up as  I had France to contend with for ten days after Spain,   I toughed it out. With a minor miracle, a new Alice emerged in 20 minutes, feeling so damned great, in time to step into Victor's teeny chariot. 

 He had six bottles with him. Two of Landron's muscadet, two of his wines....etc.etc. I was worried about not making it to Champagne or older wine, I knew we were in for it.

                     

Where were we? At another of Victor's haunts and one José himself loves. And I can understand why. The list at   Restaurante Piñera, might be one of the best in Madrid. The champagne selection that  Mario Garcia put together is spectacular, with lots of old friends and I loved the way he  relegated the few GM's he had (the Doms etc) to the back of the bus. 

We needed bubbles.  I was feeling on a very, very tight budget, so we opted for a  60 euro bottle of Lassaigne Vignes Montgeux rosé and then it was off and running.  José's notes: ASF's responses: 

Lassaigne - Rose

JP: showing great, in fact could have just drank that all night.

ASF: seemed a little simple to me, but juicy.

Dorado Superior 2001 Albarino - Portugal

 JP:-  1st was corked - 2nd better - still a little tired if not a touch flaby.

ASF: Agreed

 Ladron, Les Roches Vertes, 2010 - Muscadet

 Domaine de l'Ecu, Orthogneiss 2009 - Muscadet 

JP: - both of these wine were delicious. so focus & mineral.

ASF: YES!

-Salia 2008  ( Victor's Wine ) Manchuela

JP: showing quite good. earthy and kind of funky. in a good way. this is his basic & less expensive cuvee.  Retails for around $15 here. Pretty good! A blend of Garnacha, Alicante Bouchet & Syrah.

ASF: Good value, this sells for $16? Syrah certainly comes through and at 59%...why syrah?

- Jamet Cote-Rotie 1995

JP:very classic. with typical Jamet aromatics & texture. Still young but who cares? lovely wine!!

ASF:Please some more. This was a fantastic treat, and yes, young. Chestnut honey on a leather saddle.

- Thierry Allemand - Cornas " Reynard" 2007 

JP: beautiful showing. pure nose. very floral. also still a baby yet so sexy. just needs a good decanting. So, blame me!!

ASF: Yes, José, I did blame you, couldn't we have had it opened in the morning? Or a decant? That last sip was gorgeous.

 

 

Los Pilares, local wine from San Diego

 "We're your kind of wine." When I hear that I wonder if the guys really know my kind of wine. You get used to disappointments in this line of work.

 When I took the cork out, the color was surprising. This was grenache and carignane. It was transluscent. It had that look of life, of not being worked for extraction. Curious piqued. 

 

                      

If you can't read, here's the fine print: low on tanin. Smoky lamb, cooked plum, strawberry purée. Delicate. Touch of skunk, which is good. Touch of bitter, which is good.  cola. Very slight tannin.

I was pretty taken with it.

Intrigued with it.

The wine sees no wood, and is on that vin de soif category, at 12.5% alcohol. Let me repeat that, 12.5%.  So I Facebooked with one of the makers, Michael Christian, who gave me the low down.They aim for all older vine San Diego fruit. Not believing in the cabernet route, but in the Rhône varietals, and in old vines. Grenache and carignane from highish altitude and crushed granite.  

Not whole cluster, but whole berry ferment. No wood. They say no adds, and it tastes that way. There is inoculation for malo, 'cause they want/need to bottle it early and as it's their first vintage, perhaps, lacked confidence. The guys are  in their early 50's but absolutely part of the new wine generation, those who are trying to reign back and to express something local and authentic, whatever that means. They don't know yet, but let's see what they do in the next vintages. 

2010, sells for about $24 a bottle. The quantity was 125 cases. Big! But promising. 

 

nice little video on the natural wine issues

With Pierre Jancou, Olivier Cousin and his horse.

 

Quick notes from Tenerife

I spend my life looking for wi-fi when I'm on the road. The angst burns into a fever when I can't get on line, when the code doesnt work and I can't keep in umbilical  touch with my world back home. The pursuit of connection is a metaphor for existence, chasing one's tale (not a typo) in searh of connection that eventually turns into irritation. Then you find it. A comfort that you might not want to leave, forcing you to stay still, cease exploration. A trap.You see, that's the difficulty in love and also in assignment. Here I am in hogging the connection when I should be down in the town exploring. 

So much for morning philosophy. You might have guessed, I'm in the Canaries, on assignment. I have to be careful in these posts so I don't scoop my story, so many of the particulars and details will have to wait until they come out in print. So, bear with me please. 

 So, how random is it that the day I land in Tenerife, Mr. Asimov posts a story on Canary wines? There are no accidents. 

A friend of mine was talking about the magnetism on the Canaries, and I suppose all force of attraction are at full strength. 

First tip: do not take the ferry from Tenerife to La Palma, especially if you get sea sick and especially if you want to make a 10am flight on the return to Lanzarotte.

Tip two: dress appropriately when going to visit El Tiede. 

 

 

 This idiot was in for a big surprise when he gets to the top in 60k an hour winds with something like 28 degrees.  

 We thankfully missed the tour buses. That's the third tip.

I've never been big on getting to the top, but going to El Tiede, the third largest volcano in the world is essential in understanding the specific terroir of Tenerife .    Seeing the magma, frozen in its tracks is humbling. 

 

Tip three: eat basalt nurtured potatoes.

 

Tip four: Don't try to take one of these back with you on the plane.  or one of these

Generally I see land that has  seen chemical warfare but not holocaust. I see quite a bit if moss in the vines, evidence. And even in those who are working better, this moss lingers. So do irrigation pipes from previous owners or previous interventions. I've not see anyone work the soil yet, (this was written pre-La Palma) or plant to open up the soil without plowing, but I haven't yet seen the soil of the only biodynamic vineyard Crater, to see what they are up to. But the raw material to work with, strange soils, little top soil, and ancient vines that look like some prehistoric sea creatures or at least plaited, hyperbolic vines and those vines on their own roots, is profound.

The best wine I had so far was a 1984 field blend from Monje.  

This was still made in old lager, foot stomped, full stems, minimal sulfur at crush and at bottling. On the nose at first dead, like an old and spent Barolo. The palate was fresh, fleshy prune and molten, with bright lemon edge on the long, ashy, and uplifted finish. Opened for two hours, it just kept on getting better, the nose eventually catching up to its tongue, until it was gone way too soon. Monje is the only one on the island with older stock as most wineries were not selling commercially back then except for the co-op.  With many thanks to Felipe, an unusual man for sure, for opening this up for us. 

Natural wine movement, just noise?

That was a tweet I responded to the other day, but I needed more than 140k.

Natural wine bars existed in France since 1982, in the past five years wine bars and wine -oriented restaurants who focus on them in that city exploded to over 160 in Paris. There's at least one in virtually every appellation in that country, from hill top remote towns like Valvigneres to Toulouse and even to Beaune.They've blossomed like dandelions in Brussels, the UK, the US and Scandinavia. As wines, they've spread to Austria, never left the country of Georgia, and finally has gone wild in Italy. Israel is sadly slow on the uptake. But Australia and  the United States have a new generation of winemakers side-stepping school and making wines in the old fashioned way.

When I published The Battle for Wine and Love in 2007, there were maybe three wine makers who made wines I would happily drink on the west coast. Today I might be able to say I can count them on three hands. In a few years, that will pop. 

The formation of groups where winemakers can exchange tastes and ideas has helped. Austria's got one, Spain has one, France, one + numerous tasting events (La Remise, Haute les Vins, La Dive, ViniCircus---a score more.) Italy's natural wine groups are fractional, now there are about  3 -4 splinters. As a result where five years ago in Italy there were a few handful of natural wines, today there are a good 100 + producers, new producers mixed in with the older traditionalists. Carso, up north, is crawling with them. Mt. Etna in Sicily is vino naturale  a- go- go and even more shocking, there are natural Chianti's and Brunellos and Barolos. Rome has a natural wine bar, (no broken knee caps yet) and there's an Italian natural wine guide.

 Wine importers trawl the international wine shows ( mostly occur in France and Italy)  for new finds. Good luck to them. Competition is fierce. New York City has more than five  importers specializing in them. California has about five as well. Okay, so Napa is slow to embrace the wines on their restaurants list, understandably, but affirmative in Sonoma, Bay Area and LA, there's natural in Las Vegas, a wine bar in Kentucky and natural wine in  the Carolinas. Speaking about Kentucky, one reader of this blog, who happened upon The Battle in a used book store is now a faithful follower of Chambers Street. He just got a passport and is thinking about going on Europe Natural this summer.

The powerful ambassadorial wine tasting, The Renaissance des Appellations travels globally. Yes, that one is for Biodynamic wines but there's plenty of overlap in the natural wine world. The Italian organization,  Vin Natur is one organization alone that has 142 producers in 9 different countries, held a tasting and conference in Zurich this Fall. There, Terje Meling, head of the Norwegian monopoly, considered the largest buyers of natural wine worldwide, presented his deadpan rationale for their buying practice. Customer demand.  Beyond that? The 'natural wine' world has reintroduced a variety of kinds of wines to the public. No longer only red, white and rosé, there is orange as well. Barrique has given way to anfora and old wood and concrete. Red wines can be delicate or medium weight. Maybe it's circumstantial but I do accredit the wine geek pushing the wine envelope with embracing variety, and this whether natural yeast or not, is a very good thing for everyone.

In short, evidence of growth is circumstantial, and I hope it always stays that way. But it is there. These wines are not for everyone for sure, but there is still a very strong demand that exceedssupply. So, is it just noise? 

And is it a movement?

Where there is growth, where there is pooling of talent and pooling of ideas, where there is cross pollination, and deep kissing on the dance floors, where there are wild packed tastings in limestone caves and in conference centers where there are  groups that form and exchange information, wines,  fun and drama, there is life. Here exists a strong and often fanatic community of the makers and the drinkers. This movement is about as much white noise as the anti-war movement in 1970. And mostly people are knocking them back with gusto and little ceremony.

A writer recently  wrote, "To call the “natural wine category” a “phenomenon” is an exaggeration. If it is a phenomenon, then it is a very small one and certainly not “the most powerful movement rocking today’s wine market.” It represents a tiny fraction of the global wine market in terms of both value and volume. 

Well, then I say, this is a phenomenon because this is a desire that is people driven, not market. The winemakers are growing, the drinkers are growing, hell, I can't get the wines I want anymore. The competition is cut throat and if I dont' act quick, the stores run out of them. I hear the same complaint from Pascaline Lepeltier up at the restaurant Rouge Tomate in New York City. 

 

Big Wine and the conventional wine world might be slightly threatened  but not desperate. That might change if ever ingredients will be required on a wine label. I imagine their lobby $ will be too strong, the ingredient list, while nice, won't ever happen. But one can see it on negative tweets and attacks on natural wine.  I do find it amusing to see the use of the world nature/natural catch fire on the Lallemand catalog. 

* Yeasts selected from nature. The word occurs 9 times on that one page. There are yeasts pointed to the natural and organic community. Prediction?  This will step up

I would imagine that their yeast etc sales are not impacted. Their money is safe. Natural wine folk tend to make very little wine, and losing their market share, no big deal. But what happens when natural gets industrialized in the way organic food is now?  What happens when the demand for these kinds of wines hits the supermarket? What happens when Whole Foods bends to their customers demands to get real with their wine program, and presents wines from the bottom up that are natural or natural enough? That's when the impact will happen. And it will. But the companies will adapt. They'll find some way to make money when the yeast and sulfur sales decline.

This is not a fad. Or at least no more a fad than heirloom tomatoes and good taste is  a fad. Now, bad taste? That can be a fad. Just look at fashion from the 80s, or hot pants.

No matter what you call minimal intervention wines, it's all about returning to a more sensible time in wine making when an ego stayed out of the winemaking and stayed in the farming and what was in the glass dazzled.

But take a look at that above graf. Is it inflammatory? To some people it is. And that brings up the vitriolic axe that even my fellow wine writers need to grind. I understand the threat from Big Wine (wineries + chemical farming/oeno companies) but I can't understand those who need to attack a group of winemakers who dare to go natural and those people who seek them out. The name calling and bickering is as bad as it ever was in the sandbox at the erobertparker.com board. The point is to keep focused on the wines and not the debate, because how can you possibly debate something that is delicious and is not overly processed. I fail to see the argument.

So, long term ramifications? When people wise up to the ingredients inside a wine other than grapes, demand will accelerate. Big companies like Gallo, Boisset, and who knows, probably even Yellow Tail will have their "natural" wine line extension so they don't lose the supermarket sales. More wine makers who are happy with small scale production will see if they make the wine they actually want to drink, there are customers waiting to drink with them. And happily, more and more farmers will be going organic, biodynamic and the real love of farming will come back to the vigneron. Who knows, we might even get a real word in this country for one person who makes the wine tends the vine.

So, noise? I'm not a betting woman, but I might make an exception here. You in?

++

By the way, on another wine note. Had the  NV Bereche et Fils Extra Brut Reserve, it was just gorgeous.  (also at Chambers) 

Bonneau de Martray's journey into Biodynamics

Early that morning Becky sent me out into the day with a strict warning. "For God's sake, don't ask Jean-Charles about Aligoté!" In the moment, hanging the left out of her drive, I feared that if I didn't heed her, I'd live to regret it. 

Perhaps J-C harbored a dark secret--an Aligoté living in the attic, or illegal vines on Corton, or  perhaps more likely, she was afraid I'd bore him to death, and she liked him too much to suffer the loss. But the largest landowner on Corton going BioD was big news. I'd keep my mouth shut and focus on the 505 and other preparations at hand. Leaving Claire Naudin in a hurry, not wanting to be late, 

I rode the ten minutes into the rabbit warren like village of Pernand.                                               

                                                

Best intentions and all of that, I got my times screwed up.  Jean Charles le Bault de la Morinière of Domaine Bonneau de Martray  had been waiting for me for thirty mintues.

With a high forehead and the tame side of wild steel-wool eyebrows atop of mirthful eyes, a lanky, lean frame, J-C also has a high school boyishness that will keep him forever youthful.

He speaks his English with an accent as aritsocratic as Grand Cru as the vineyards he took over from his father in 1994.

So, with Claire's vibrant wines still singing in my mouth  Jean Charles asked me what brought me to Burgundy this time. I on auto pilot blurted out, "I''m writing a story on Aligoté for the World of Fine Wine."

So much for my ability to follow instructions.

"I should very much like to read this," he said.  

We quickly fell into the quagmire of what is terroir and the fate of Aligoté, and he didn't seem to mind one bit. At one time Aligoté roamed as freely as earth worms in those vineyards, but slowly were ripped out because they were poor girls who couldn't afford their rent. As it turned out, his father ripped out the aligoté from Corton, it's last vintage was 1973. They were replanted. And ever since Jean-Charles realized something was wrong, they are being treated to some very fine agricultural finery. 

Domaine de Martray has been in Jean-Charles family for two centuries, and as a result they have phenomenol holdings, the largest of any other (on Corton-Chuck and Corton), around 27 acres of Grand Cru. But when Jean Charles took over the domaine in 1994, he saw a disaster waiting to happen. 

The problem?

"We were under threat of erosion. There was no sign of life in the top soil. It was normal to use the post World War 2 techniques  for quantity; mechanical and chemical work. We were encouraged by consultants to make wide use of chemicals to resist pests,  insects and control the weeds. We are subject to erosion on this side of the (west-facing)  hill. I also saw the creeping of moss as well (sign of death in the vineyard). This was not acceptable. This would be the  end to great terroir if I didn't take measures.  How is it in less than the life of one person, you can turn a vineyard into  a disaster?"

He  had been certified for organic since 2003, but there was still the erosion problem. He needed the healing of the earth to go faster. He thought about Biodynamics and  a visit with Humbrecht in Alsace convinced him. "I would do no harm to the land and it could do some good, so why not try?"

 He started to work 1/2 of each vineyard in organic the other 1/2 in Biodynamics.  His aim was to  be as scientific as possible using the  different techniques on same slope and soil types.

They picked and vinified the sixteend different parcels separately.

"The first thing that we saw were the soils," he said.

Jean-Charles is a self-doubter and he was eager to see what other people could see, just in case he was fooling himself. When  Martin Gold of Martin Scott came to visit in 2010, J-C took him to the vines in the rain. "Look at the soils," he said.

Martin saw the difference. Jean-Charles said, "He saw that the perfumes were richer and deeper in the Biodynamic vines. The soils  under the Biodynamic vines absorbed the water better. The soil was not as clumpy as in the organic, the moisture was quickly absorbed. and the soil was not clumpy but absorbed."

In the end, the  soils have better structure and better ability to resist erosion. 

Another difference he saw besides the soil were the leaves interpretation of light. "They were in a saucer-like form instead of hanging flat. Light danced through the leaves and the canopy. "Light," he has observed, "is at least as important, or more important than temperature, but few people ever talk about it."

And taste?

That remains to be seen, he's seen none of the increased acids, but he thinks there's more vibrancy. He would rather other people taste the samples  he's set aside of vinifications from the same plots from different cultivations to decide, and that will happen. But for now, his focus is totally on the healing of the soil, curbing the erosion and maintaining the health of a land that was almost lost. 

He anticipates his Demeter certification in 2013 and has been reticient about any articles stating his estate is Biodynamic until then. Why certification?

"It is important to do what we say and say what we do," he said. And until then, I can talk to you and tell you our process but I won't go around saying we are Biodynamic until we are certified."

 His notion of patrimony to the soil and place to be the prime motivation.  "We must be the best farmer we can be. We are obliged to give the next generation a vineyard better than we started with. We need to allow our vines to express their origins and vintage. The idea is to interfere as little as possible. The artisan, the farmer is trying to express something true. Then you have the industrial growers going for taste and consistencey. This would be the end of fine wine. This is my position."  

And with that we tasted.    
Bonneau de Martray Corton-Charlemagne:

2009- Honey and depth, but quiet on the nose and a little shy right now, on the palate. Marked by salt and slate and still too young, but the wine is starting to come into focus, almost embryonic. (around $100)

2007- Beautiful aroma yet also quiet, chalky, florality, orange and lime and some cholrine and caramel with a lite delicate whisper finish that belies it's specific finish, like someone with perfect pitch hitting  an A. (around $120)

I was just musing about whether it was true, whether Aligoté was a little wine, whether it could never have the greatness of chardonnay, even though I rarely yearn for it from any appellation, from grand cru on down (except, hello blanc de blanc!), when Bernard showed up in the tasting room with a dusty bottle that would confirm what I expected, that Aligoté, is a defender of Burgundy terroir like no other white grape in town.  And Becky will just have to forgive me.

 

 

Claire Naudin (and the case of the unsulfured aligoté)

I was still on the aligoté hunt when I returned to Burgundy in October. One name that kept on coming up; Claire Naudin. 

Here is only a partial list of  people who told me to go to see her: Anne Morey, Pierre de Benoist, Alice et Olivier deMoor and Philippe Pacalet. I'm sure there was someone else. And did I book a meeting? No. I did not. Why? Well, I forgot.

That is...I forgot, or rather I had a tight schedule and thought I didn't have time to see her  until I was trapped in a sterile lab room in the offices of the BIVB, just like a real wine critic, tasting blind through 60 aligotés which were stuffed into tight socks so I couldn't peek at the labels. Most of the wines sucked. They were real life examples of why aligoté, the Ishmael grape of the region had a plonky reputation. Some of the descriptors that kept on surfacing were: dirt nose, yeast, ick, enzymatic texture, gum arabic, help,vile, vomit, and ‘I have no idea what this is."

But a quarter of the wines were passable and out of those eight were terrific (when I saw who they were among them were some old favorites such as Lafarge and Didier Montchovet.) That's when I looked at these words: Sulfur! Then calms down and then angular, focus, apple, lemon. Nice! ...and I matched them to its vigneron. 

Claire Naudin.

There was no choice. I had to go, even though I  was officially off of aligoté duty. However on a frosty Friday morning I squeezed in a meeting. Had to. I was staying with Becky and Russell and as I headed off to the Haute Cotes to see Ms. Naudin, Becky told me, don't be late for your visit with Jean Charles of Bonneau de Martray. And whatever you do, don't ask him about aligoté!

I promised. 

 

 On a frosty morning I made my way there through the twisty village of Pernand Vergelesses where I was to return, under strict instruction not to bring up Aligoté. Becky was so tired of my Aligoté talk and didn't want me to bore Jean Charles. With this thought I entered the town of Magny-lés-Villers in the Hautes Cote, once celebrated for its Aligoté and where  Claire works on 22 hectares.

Claire is a very pretty, feminine vigneronne. Thoughtful and earnest.  She took over the estate in 1994 and her father didn't give her a hard time converting it to minimal intervention farming.Working on 22 hectares, quite a bit, she makes three different versions from vines that are at youngest 45 years of age. She used to make five, but she, like Sylvain Pataille, Domaine Morey, and really just about everyone else other than Lafarge and A&O DeMoor have had to reduce holding because it is a pain in the ass to sell. As was said to me up at Goisot in St. Bris, "If I labeled my aligoté, chardonnay, I'd sell every bottle."  (and the drinkers would be much happier.)

When we came back from the vines she said to me that chardonnay didn't even exist up there in her part of the Haute Cotes until the 60's. And as far as the aligoté she said, "There are only a few crazy people who are intersested."          

I was one of them. Her basic aligoté    
was quite lovely but then she took out her Vin de France, Le Clous 34 in 2009, and I have to tell you, this was a brilliant wine. Her unsulfured cuvée.

She is a strict non-dogmatist (there's a contrast in terms for you) but she certainly has her way with out SO2. This was deep, almost chenin like, complex, hay and  juicy  with a lemon-organge thing going on. She machine picks for the usual haute cotes wines, but for the SO2-free wines, she hand picks. "People get upset with me when they taste the unsulfured wines, they say, it's not wine."                        

 

Well, I took it back in a few hours to Russell who was making endive bechamel. He was frying the fat off of bacon when I hit the kitchen. I poured him a glass, and I know he saw how excited I was and I could tell that he was rolling his eyes, oh what does she have for me now?" 

But he was intrigued. He liked the wine.  He even had another glass before he cracked the chablis, and from Russell, who raises his eyebrow suspiciously at these wines, that is high praise.

In the end, just damned fine wine. 

 

 

VinNatur Zurich (the Nossiter/Bourguignon edition)

Veneto winemaker activist Angiolino Maule  took to the stage with an aura so intense, I saw him as the Clint Eastwood of the Western wine world. 

At the outset of the "Natural Wine, the scientific approach," tasting/seminar in Zurich last week, Maule briefly delivered an overview of his group, VinNatur. 

His members work naturally to produce wines of terroir, and wines that do not pollute the land or the consumer. To insure his flock behaves (and to try to keep the group safe from poseurs) he tests their finished wines for pesticides, herbicides and sulfur. If after three years those pollutants aren’t diminished, members get the boot. No matter how you feel about the biblical nature of the testing, it's Maule's group and he gets to decide who plays.  So no problem so far. In addition, the group is engaged in active research, how does yeast work, how does one reduce copper and sulfur in the vineyards.

With Isabelle Legeron as the day's MC, the day then commenced. First up, Claude Bourguignon. 

Down to the flashing fingers ringed in silver and his thick, wavy head of hair, the soil scientist is a royal. He is also a limestone supremacist  ("7% of the earth's geology is limestone, and 55% of that is in Burgundy."). His last name, after all is Bourguignon and the stretch of the Cote d’or is his benchmark.  

Speaking in machine gun fast English Claude's presentation had at its core the two types of wines, wines of technology and wines of terroir. Land should trump climate, he said.  

Besides the obvious, you are what you eat, it seems to me that there's another factor;  climate will change yet the soil is constant.  He then added, that the natural approach, the least intervention you can get away with,  is the only path to express terroir.   

As illustration, CB stated, "New Zealand will finally  make good wine when they stop with big canopy & irrigation."  (Note the limestone supremacy example. NZ has a great deal of it.)

In other words, perhaps if the New World listens to the soil first and stops with the meddling technologies, (especially irrigation which CB is violently opposed to), they will make wine that is true to their place.

His illustrative example was  of course Burgundy.

In Burgundy the cooler and higher elevation is in the Cote de Nuits and it is more suitable for reds. The Cote de Beaune is warmer and for some reason more suitable for whites. The monks knew what they were doing, as they made their decisions based on the quality of the soil, the quality of the mineral (limestone) content of the clay.

During the long day there were calls from the peanut gallery for a natural wine definition. For me it is sufficient to say, "Wines made with as little manipulation as possible, wines made with the goal of nothing added and nothing taken away." But others seem to either this is not enough or refuse to hear it and instead need a very detailed iron clad set of parameters.

Seems to me a set of rules would be a dangerous situation. If there are rules then one can get around it. How does one have rules, afterall, for a philosophy?

I kept on thinking about the  Dogme rules.  I loved Lars Von Trier's Breaking the Waves as well as  Thomas Vinterberg's The Celebration. Both powerful and brutal.  Dogme could well be the film version of vin naturel, especially with their view of chastity. Rules were broken from the first film. Some of the rules prohibit creativity. Though the ideal to create film with as little artifice as possible is an interesting one, especially in an artificial medium. The movement 'died' in 2005. 

The day was long and ended up with my past neighbor, Jonathan Nossiter (Mondovino) gave some random thoughts. He is eloquent. He speaks six languages (or is that seven) fluently,  studied ancient Greek, studied painting, claims Brazil and Italy as homes and frankly, makes me feel like the village idiot.

But the talk was a very good one.

Jonathan with some dejection said, "There is no room for film as cultural expression any more." And that was his lament, also about wine. As far as definition? It is useless to define. He riffed more on my dogme thought from another side of the film divide, saying, " Rules for natural wines, like telling the Italian film directors of the 1950’s, Rosselini, Visconti, Fellini let’s make rules for neo-realism. If you don’t make films in this way, you’re out of the movement."  

He then switched to the Nouvelle Vague, "We need to change our head, the same way that the films of Godard changed the film world. I didn't like all of his films, but  Godard made people question what is the basis of making the film. He turned narrative on its head and it makes people question what is the reality. There isn’t one person since, even conventional films in Hollywood, who don’t question what it is they are making, who hasn’t rethought what is a film narrative.

 The natural wine movement is doing that to any winemaker. 

 And with that we went off to taste the wines in the back room. What did I find.........(coming up next)

 

Comparative winemaking styles in Rioja

Last week Pep Roca of Can Roca in Girona told me he was appearing in a little tv show that would be of interest. Turns out it's a Spanish TV show  that drew inspiration from the Spanish Chapter of my book, The Battle for Wine and Love.  Even if you don't speak Spanish,  it's a fascinating comparison of the winemaking of Remírez de Ganuza  with that of  López de Heredia. This is a must watch.