La Bourgogne, j'adore

I came back to Paris yesterday, after six glorious days in Burgundy. When I boarded the Paris-bound train that morning, the strongest imprint on my mind was not the gorgeous, radiant yellow leafs that painted golden swathes on the slopes, ardently true to the name the Côte d'Or. The far more profound mark was left by the new, abiding respect for the people, their collective love of the land and the terroir, and, of course, the astounding wines they make. Although, they would be the first to tell you that the wine is far less a product of their own making than simply the inevitable result of their stewardship of the land.

It should tell you something when perhaps the best compliment one could give to a Burgundian vigneron is that his wine is true to the expression of its terroir. Laurent Ponsot went even further, explaining to me that even the cépage, the Pinot Noir grape itself, was practically inconsequential. The Pinot Noir was merely there as a conduit entre le sous-sol et le vin, between the ground underneath and the wine it makes. Despite how fanciful that statement sounded, it was difficult not to take him seriously. How could I, when each wine, each made from the same grape, by the same wine maker, using practically the same method, aged in the same cave even, yet each tasted different, even to my amateur palate? The only determining variable appeared to be, as all Burgundian wine makers would gladly tell you, the terroir.

And have I got tales to tell from this trip, embarrassing ones too! At Leflaive, I refused to spit out Le Montrachet '04 that Pierre Morey was so kind as to let us taste -of course, after he herded out other less-worthy visitors. There were only two barrels of that wine for this year, and a damn amazing year for it too. Alexandre Dumas once said of Le Montrachet that one must drink it on bended knees. (Il faut le boire à genoux!) So, damn me if I was going to spit that stuff! And I would have finished the glass too, but for Pierre Morey who gently, but firmly, took the glass away and poured the heavenly liquid back where it belonged, in the barrel where it would continue on its way to the sublime. What an embarrassment I was! What an amateur too! I have a feeling I'm not going back to that cave next year...

Another one I resolutely refused to spit was the '04 Clos Saint-Denis at Laurent Ponsot. It was made from vines that were over a hundred years old. I was completely speechless when I tasted it –and between you and me that's saying something. The intense rose petal scent in that wine stayed with me long after I -ahem- spat -ahem- it out.

There was also a disappointment or two, the most unbelievable one was at Coche-Dury. Despite the reputation of the domaine, I found practically everything I tasted there to be underwhelming. The '03 Corton Charlemagne figures in my note with one little word: icky. I know, I know, icky is not exactly in the professional taster's vocabulary, but it pretty much sums up my opinion on that wine.

I'm off to Lausanne tomorrow, and Nice on Wednesday. David is finally joining me, even just for a week. Yippee! This is his first time off from work since April. We are going to Crissier near Lausanne, to have dinner at Phillipe Rochat, and then to Nice where we will be shopping and cooking with our friends for four days. Oh, right, and there is a dinner at Le Louis XV in there somewhere. Luckily I will have internet connection in Nice, so I can tell you more about Burgundy and all the embarrassing things I did there. I also took hundreds of photos, in the caves and on the vineyards, hopefully they will all be up on my Flickr soon so you can sneak a look in with me.

Comments

[Kon Thai]

Quelle vie privilégiée!!!

[barbara]

I'm green with envy. What a wonderful time you had in Burgundy.

[Peter]

I guess you have your eating itinerary in Lausanne sorted out; it wouldn't be Rochat, would it? Actually, you don't need any recommendations, the usual guides have it pretty well sorted out. Just spare a thought for our vines as you remember Burgundy - most of them were destroyed in a hailstorm in July.

[Amy]

So Pim, is it true what Brillat-Savarin once wrote, that Burgundy makes you think of silly things; Bordeaux makes you talk about them, and Champagne makes you do them?

[Linus]

I had the privilege of hanging out with the Seysses at Domaine Dujac and had a whale of a time.
Sounds like you had a great time too!

Linus

[saltshaker]

I remmeber visiting Jean-Michel Deiss at Domaine Marcel Deiss in Alsace a long while back. The conversation with him was much the same. He went further to claim that the grape was so irrelevant that he could produce pretty much the same wine from any grape so long as it was from the same vineyard patch. That might have been overstating the case, but as you said, based on taste, the terroir makes a huge difference!

[Salt Chic]

I'd love to do a trip like that someday, it sounds divine. I've been expanding my wine palette recently as its definitely lacking in the French wines department so I'm taking notes!

[max]

Bringing any Montrachet back?

Because you really should have me over for dinner.

[pisto]

I do not think you should be embarrased by not spitting a wine that you like so much. As long as you do not drink the last drop of every single wine that you are offered to taste, I think it can even be seen as a sign of appreciation.

"Sorry, I just cannot spit this!" is a good thing to say. And I do not think that taking your glass back to the barrel is in anyway related to not spitting. This is quite common in Burgundy, because of the small production each grower has on each vineyard. And many other places too.

If you want to impress the vigneron further, just ask them for smaller quantities of wine to be poured in your glass with a "I know this is so scarce and there is no point in wasting it" or so on. Showing appreciation and respect for vignerons (and other people) is always worthwile.

[Steve Rosenberg]

Regarding your experiance with the young Corton Charlemagne from Coche Dury. Personally, no suprises there. A good Corton will take between 10 and 15 years to strut its stuff. But when they do...OMG...my absolute favorite appellation on the Cote de Beaune. Hands down.

[zissou75]

i agree about the corton which needs a lot of time. also coche's wines are always austere in their youth since jean francois coche doesn't believe in batonnage, the traditionnal meursault method for giving more structure and character to their wines...

[Pim]

Thanks everybody for your comments.

Barbera: Thanks!

Peter: It certainly was Rochat, and a lovely dinner it was too. We made a point of drinking only Swiss wines. How could we have resisted?

Amy: Burgundy will make you do a lot more. As for Bordeaux, the day they stopped obsessing over Parker scores, we'd all be better off.

Linus: I had lunch with the Seysses as well. What lovely people!

Saltshaker: That sounds like Deiss alright. I like his wines too.

Salt Chic: I'm still learning too. This trip was a huge learning opportunity, but I still have far, far to go. We can all do it together.

Max: Alas, no Monrachet, but perhaps others worthy of drinking too, à genoux or what not.

Pisto: It's so unprofessional not to spit, actually. I was going with some real pros, so it was when-in-Rome and all that.

[Pim]

Steve R and Zissou: I have had old Coche-Dury wines, the most recent one at the dinner at Michel Bras early this summer. I've never been particularly wowed by them. As it was explained to me by experts I met in Burgundy, a lot of great Burgundies enjoy a period of being quite open at a very young age, from in the barrels to a year or so, and then they close for a long period, only re-openning fully after many years of bottle aging. Most of the wines I tasted during this trip were directly from the barrels, and though a few certainly suffered from being far too young, harsh tannin and reduction and all that, it was certainly possible to gauge the wines' character and potential for greatness in them. I didn't get that feeling at all at Coche. Not that I hated all his wines, a lot of others I tasted were just fine, but the '03 Corton was particularly bad, extremely low in acidity, but retaining all the harsh, musculin quality of the wine without the acidity to brightens things up a bit. It was, as I said, icky. I wouldn't drink it if someone gave it to me for free.

To me, the fact that I was so blase about it spoke volume, since Coche-Dury was the last cave I visited, after the week full of marvelous wines. At least to my taste, I couldn't figure out what was such a big deal about those wines that they would demand so high prices.

à chacun son goût and all that, I guess.

cheers,
Pim