More on Typicity: Thierry Puzelat's "Le Telquel"
Date: Tue, Aug 19, 2008 Wine Tasting
When the bureaucrats from the INAO come a-knocking at a vigneron’s door to taste through their goods for the year, typicity is one of the main elements subject to their judgment. The problem is, the INAO tasters have often been accused of being in the pocket of the large négociants houses and industrial concerns, whose interests all too often put quantity before quality. Typicity, in that context, can become more about maintaining the status quo, looking at the lowest common denominator, than about focusing on the best traits inherent to the subject in question. Producers who push the envelope, whether through natural farming and winemaking, extremely low yields or highly characterful wines, are those most often are hurt by the INAO’s power to withhold AOC designation. I’ve written about this before, regarding the wines of Vincent Ricard in the Touraine and Jean-Paul Brun in Beaujolais. But the producer who seems to knock heads with the authorities more regularly than his peers is Thierry Puzelat.
Vin de Table Français “Le Telquel,” Thierry Puzelat NV (2007)
$14. 12% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
Look as hard as you’d like on the label of Thierry Puzelat’s “Le Telquel” and you won’t find a vintage date, at least not an obvious one. That, along with its lowly Vin de Table designation, is a sure sign, especially in a still wine, that the producer has run afoul of the expectations of France’s (in)famous INAO tasting panel. As do most producers, Thierry gets around the regulation that doesn’t allow vintage dating for Vins de Table by including a vintage reference in the bottle’s lot number. “Lvtr07” appears in tiny print on the label’s sidebar; while I won’t hazard a guess at the meaning of “vtr,” “L…07” certainly represents Lot 2007. As for weathering the demotion from AOC to VdT status, Puzelat has built a strong enough following that his wines will still sell, usually at the same price as if they held AOC status. Not all other producers are so lucky.
“Le Telquel” is varietal Gamay, sourced by Puzelat from high quality farms and fermented according to his inimitably natural standards. The funny thing is, there’s no mistaking it for anything other than Gamay. It’s bursting with the pure red cherry and raspberry fruit that’s typical to the variety. What it isn’t – and here’s where that lowest common denominator standard seems to have been applied – is grapey and one-dimensional, as are far too many basic Loire Gamay. The wine should qualify as AOC Touraine but has been declassified to Vin de Table, presumably because of its intensity of flavor and aroma.
A sauvage aromatic character, somewhat akin to the sweet scents of a well-trodden pasture, replaces simple grapiness. There’s a depth that extends beyond bright red fruit into a more brooding backbone of black fruits and spice. Clove and five spice both come to mind. Up front, the chalkiness I often associate with young Beaujolais is there; however, on the finish, there’s a hint of tingly minerality that roots the wine in the Loire. Best served slightly chilled, this is soft enough to be enjoyed alone for its wonderful fruit and aroma but textured enough to sit well at the table. And at less than $15/bottle, it’s an excellent value, AOC or no AOC.
Image of Thierry Puzelat courtesy of Louis/Dressner Selections.
On Savennières Typicity
Date: Mon, Aug 18, 2008 Wine Tasting
After writing recently about a couple of Loire Valley Chenin Blancs, a reader (who also happened to be a participant in the tasting) raised a question: just what are the typical characteristics of Savennières? If you look back through the comments to that posting, you’ll find my response as well as one from fellow Loire wine lover, Brooklynguy. I’d like to think that we both did a fine job; in fact, I think an amalgam of our two responses really nails it. That said, I thought it would be even more revealing to turn the floor over to Ms. Jacqueline Friedrich, author of the benchmark text “The Wine and Food Guide to the Loire
“Savennières makes the ultimate dry Chenin Blanc…. It is, I think, the most cerebral wine in the world. When fully mature, it is breathtaking. All about majesty, the wine spreads across the palate like cream, revealing glimpses of flavor like an ever-changing landscape, a bale of hay, a whiff of chamomile, a basket of dried flowers, honey blended with quince and apricot or peach, the sting of citrus zests, a sonorous wave of minerals. Simultaneously taut and lyrical, bone-dry yet marrowy, it is a stroll along steep slate hillsides with Chenin. A wine of discovery, of reflection, Savennières is not for the uninitiated.”
Though that concept of “initiation” into a wine’s secrets may seem snobbish, I don’t debate it. Savennières, to me, is one of those wines, like the best Rieslings from Germany or fine red Burgundy, which can be very difficult to understand. Those that do understand often love them with a violent passion; those that don’t often write them off as overrated, just not for them or, worse yet, bad. Friedrich’s passion for Savennières, if it wasn’t already obvious from her opening definition, is made achingly clear in her description of a wine from Domaine des Baumard. I was reminded of her words when subjected to a serious ribbing the other day from some of my friends and coworkers regarding the sometimes tortured syntax of my own notes. Something about “titular subjugation,” I seem to recall.... Anyway, her description is one of the most poetic yet over-the-top wine tasting notes I’ve yet to encounter. Here it is, for your very own reading pleasure:
“A ’75 Clos du Papillon [was] so glorious it brought tears to my eyes. It is one of the six most memorable wines I’ve ever tasted. A fine weave of fleeting aromas and flavors, a whiff of menthol, then ginger, the mellow toast of the best oak (though it never saw a barrel), quinine, cranberries, and chamomile, and a long, sapid citrus zest and mineral finish. It was fully evolved yet fresh as dew. It was Balanchine, Petipa. Nothing could better express the combination of lyricism and tensile strength, the sensuality underlying sheer intellect, the ethereal floating above a solid base. Les Sylphides in a glass. It was like nothing else in the world.”
For those of you with an interest in the wines of the Loire Valley, I wholeheartedly recommend Ms. Friedrich’s book. First published in 1996, it does have the automatic shortcoming of any wine book that includes vintage and tasting notes: most of the specific wines she describes are no longer readily available. However, the depth of knowledge, both objective and personal, she applies to her subject matter makes it a book that I feel is without peer when it comes to coverage of Loire Valley wines. She’s not afraid to tell you what she likes and what she doesn’t, nor does she shirk from turning a stern eye on some of the Loire’s most noted producers. Again in the context of Savennières, her summation of the wines from the famed estate of Nicolas Joly, Coulée de Serrant, should be enough to set anyone thinking. I’ll leave that quote, though, to your own exploration.
Loire Valley Wines… Let Me Count the Ways
Date: Sat, Aug 16, 2008 Wine Tasting
Diversity. Character. Expression.
Sounds like it could be a commercial slogan for just about any high market product, no? Add food friendliness to the list and you have four of the many reasons that I love Loire Valley wines. Those factors are all captured in a delicious wine from the Touraine that I enjoyed with dinner this week. It may be my favorite rosé of the year (at least so far).
Touraine Pineau d’Aunis Rosé, Clos Roche Blanche 2007
$15. 12% alcohol. Neocork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
Diversity? Where else are Cabernet Franc, Pinot Noir, Gamay and Côt, Chenin Blanc and Sauvignon Blanc grown right alongside local oddities like Pineau d’Aunis and Menu Pineau? Character? This is seriously distinctive wine that couldn’t come from anyplace else. Expression? The varietal character of Pineau d’Aunis shows through, even in a rosé, where grape variety can often be innocuous. Loire terroir is also expressed; even with the assertive personality of Pineau d’Aunis, there’s still an aspect of delicacy at play, largely thanks to light, refreshing acidity. Food friendliness? I’d be happy to drink a glass of this on its own but, for many, this might demand food. I enjoyed it with a very simple dinner – turkey burgers and a salad – but I could envision this pairing well with anything from poultry to sausages to grilled seafood.
There’s a remarkable match between the wine’s color and one of its dominant flavor elements: watermelon rind. Think of the pale pink watermelon pith left just above the pale green/white of the rind itself. Add to that a generous dash of cracked black pepper and slightly raspy texture and you’ve got a good sense of the wine. It’s rustic and a little awkward but extremely charming, all the same. Air contact and the concomitant slow rise in temperature bring out aromas of fallen leaves and potpourri. If forced to draw a parallel, I’d think of it as a cross between Cabernet Franc and Syrah, though what it really reminds me of is the Fer Servadou, aka Mansois, native to Marcillac in Southwest France. At $15, this is also a welcome example of the fact that many Loire wines continue to provide not just great character but also great value.
Notes from a Sunday
Date: Thu, Aug 14, 2008 Wine Tasting
Just a few notes today, from a casual get together with the usual suspects. In this edition, we started off with a couple of beauties from 2005 in the Loire before moving on to a Bourgogne Passetoutgarin, which I already wrote up under separate cover earlier this week. With dinner, an older Bordeaux seemed in order. Finally, my buddy Bill begrudgingly admitted to a Syrah epiphany.
Jasnières “Les Rosiers,” Domaine de Bellivière (Eric Nicolas) 2005
“Les Rosiers” is Eric Nicolas’ young vine cuvée of Jasnières, 100% Chenin Blanc fermented and aged primarily in barrels of 1-3 years with a small percentage of new oak. Though usually sec-tendre in style, this seems closer to demi-sec richness, no doubt due to the concentration provided by the 2005 vintage. It also happens to be showing as well if not better than any whites I’ve had from Bellivière in the past. Its richness is well bridled, thanks to the good acidity bound up in the wine’s creamy texture. There’s an unmistakable essence of pear nectar right up front, followed by classic notes of clover flowers and honey-glazed minerals. After aeration, some botrytis driven and vegetal funk sneaks through on the mid-palate but there’s still excellent upper and rear palate feel. Pears galore on the finish. $25. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
Savennières “Cuvée Spéciale,” Château d’Epiré 2005
The “Cuvée Spéciale” from Château d’Epiré represents a selection of the best fruit from the property, mostly from a plot located adjacent to Nicolas Joly’s “Coullée de Serrant.” The version handled by d’Epiré’s US importer, Kermit Lynch, differs from that sold in France, as Kermit gives strict instruction that the wine be bottled without filtration. As opposed to the Jasnières above, this is a bone-dry expression of Chenin. Vintage derived concentration plays a role here as well, resulting in a slightly aggressive frontal attack, the result of intense physiological extract and slightly high alcohol. The wine bristles with mineral density. Flavors of gooseberry and white grapes are followed by dried floral and herbal elements, subtle on the nose, magnified on the palate. After a couple hours of airtime, a scent of spearmint emerges, something I think of as a signature element of dry Savennières. Very good wine that could definitely benefit from cellaring to allow integration and development. $23. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Kermit Lynch, Berkeley, CA.
Haut-Médoc, Château Guittot-Fellonneau 1997
Guy Constantin produces real, old-fashioned Bordeaux from a whopping four hectares of property on the outskirts of the town of Macau. His estate is just a stone throw – on the wrong side of the road, essentially – from falling within the borders of Margaux. Lucky for us, as the wines could still be had for under $20 only a few years ago; unlucky for him as a more privileged address might have made him a slightly wealthier man by now. 1997 was universally panned by the big critics – proof “embottled” that points don’t mean a thing, as I’ve enjoyed several delicious ‘97s from a number of small-to-medium Châteaux over the last year or two. This has a long way to go but is starting to show some lovely bottle development. The nose is loaded with graphite/lead pencil aromas along with black and red currant fruit, a touch of bay leaf and really savory earthiness. Medium-bodied, taut and well delineated, it’s a damn good example of Bordeaux that’s not only inexpensive but can also be enjoyed with more than just steak and lamb. In this case, we paired it with braised chicken breasts and mushrooms, a dish Bill adapted from a recipe in Pierre Franey’s “Cuisine Rapide.”
Saint-Joseph Rouge, Domaine Georges Vernay 2006
Bill is a self-avowed Syrah hater. He loves red wine, mind you, as long as it’s from Burgundy, the Loire, Beaujolais or Piedmont. He’s even been know to drink Grenache based wines from time to time. But Syrah? Nope. I’ve been out to prove him misguided for a while now and the opportunity finally presented itself a few weeks back when I hosted one of these Sunday gigs at my place; most are at his. I’d given strict instructions that he not bring anything. Translation: he was at my mercy. I poured a bottle half-blind, meaning I knew what it was but the rest of my guests had no idea. It was a bit unfair, I suppose, not just because of the trap but also because it was an older bottle. A damn good one, at that, the 1997 Cornas “Vieilles Vignes” from Alain Voge, a really top-notch if somewhat underappreciated producer.
Bill liked it. After I told him what it was, he still liked it. So much so that he went shopping a little while later and came home with an armful of another Northern Rhône Syrah, the Saint-Joseph Rouge from Domaine Georges Vernay. Bill liked this one as well. I did too. It’s a really fine example of young Saint-Joseph, redolent of dark red berries, cinnamon and black pepper, with a streak of black olive and bacon, a hint of beefiness and supple but really visceral texture. Medium-bodied, no discernible oak and a totally transparent winemaking style. Sandwiched between Christine Vernay’s basic VdP Syrah, which is only about $10 less, and her Côte-Rôtie, which run three-to-four times the price, this is a really solid value, suitable for drinking now or stashing away for the next ten years. $30. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler, Unionville, PA.
WBW 48 and MFWT 300: A Blast from My Past
Date: Wed, Aug 13, 2008 Wine Tasting
Well, it’s that time of the month again – Wine Blogging Wednesday time. Today marks the 48th installment of the venerable institution, making it the 4th anniversary of the event started way back in 2004 by Lenn Thompson of LennDevours. By way of celebration, Lenn is also hosting today’s edition. It’s a milestone of sorts for me as well – my 300th post. So, a special thank you goes out to Lenn, not only for hosting but also for his serendipitous good timing.
Mr. Thompson’s theme for the day is getting back to your roots. Your wine drinking roots, that is. In his words, “I just want you to pick one of the wines from the beginning of your journey, taste it again for the first time in a while, and tell us about it.”
I’ve decided to tell you about three different wines, representing three different phases of my formative wine years. In a rare example of MFWT restraint, though, I’m only going to revisit one. However, so as not to disappoint anyone, I promise to spice things up a bit in another fashion. It’s a long journey, so sit back and relax.
While wine has been an important part, parcel and passion of my adult years, it took a distant back seat, from my childhood all the way through young adulthood, to music. I wrote about music long before I ever dreamed of writing about wine. Though I’m nowhere near as actively involved in the music scene as I was at one time, music – like wine – remains a strong driving force in my life. So, without further ado, here’s an entry from McDuff’s Wine & Music Trail: the formative years.
Part One: Early History
It’s not that wine was never around my house or on the table when I was a kid. For my folks, though, wine was not a serious matter of interest. The bottles that did make it onto the table were generally the usual suspects of the 1970s: Mateus and Lancers, Black Tower and, only around the holidays, Andre Cold Duck. It’s the latter of the bunch, the purple, fizzy juice called Cold Duck, which stands out most clearly in memory. Whether there’s any truth to it I’ll never know but my parents were convinced that Cold Duck was my grandmother’s favorite tipple. So almost without fail, it made an appearance on the table at every Thanksgiving and Christmas meal throughout my childhood years. No offense to Andre, whoever he is, but I’m not about to plunk down any of my hard earned cash on a bottle of Cold Duck, even if it is for WBW. So, you’ll have to settle for a picture (courtesy of WineChef) and a taste of what I might have been listening to before sitting down to one of those holiday meals.
My first teensy taste ever might have coincided with something like this:
By the time I was allowed a real sip or two, it was probably more like this:
And during the heart of my skateboarding years of teen rebellion, it just might have been:
Cold Duck was there all the way.
Part Two: The Awakening
What was the first wine that really opened my eyes? I hate to tell you I can’t remember exactly what it was. I do remember, though, where and when I drank it, at a long defunct restaurant in Baltimore. I think the name was Auberge or Aubergine… it’s been a long time. I was in college and was also a pretty strict vegetarian at the time. Our waitress suggested a wine for our meal, a Mosel Riesling, most likely a Kabinett from the late 70’s or early 80’s. I remember that much, just not the producer or any more specific information. What I definitely remember is an incredibly refreshing, flavorful blast of apple and peach fruit, and the distinct minerality of the wine. It was also great with whatever was on my plate. I was sold. Not to the point of becoming an instant wine geek, mind you, but I was henceforth very interested in the possibilities. It would just be another few years before I really dove in and started to explore them.
Riesling remains, to this day, one of my true wine passions. Because I write about it here with some regularity, I opted not to pick one as the wine to taste for this episode. If that bums you out, there’s plenty to read here. At around the time of that eye-opening bottle, by the way, I was almost certainly into something like this:
The sound/video quality's not great but it was a fun show.
Part Three: The Trail
By the late 1980s, wine had become a much more regular exploration for me. It was during my first trip to the Napa Valley in the early 90s, though, that the big bug really bit. I was accompanied by the woman who would eventually become my wife. And I was hooked. California Cabernet (and Merlot, Zinfandel, Chardonnay, Riesling, etc.) would become my primary focus for the next few years. I was already exploring European wines at the time but the best wines we tasted on that trip took me in their grip.
We visited several wineries on that first journey, as well as taking in the sites of the valley. The winery that really stood out for me was V. Sattui. Their tasting room is a pretty little spot on Highway 29 between Rutherford and St. Helena, right in the heart of the valley. It’s still a fun place to stop for a picnic lunch and a glass of wine. We tasted everything they offered us that day, from Muscat and Gamay Rosé to estate bottled Cabs. I joined their wine club on the spot, my first and, to this day, only wine club. I’ve long since canceled my membership and long since consumed most of the wines. I also don’t drink California wines nearly as often as back then. However, there are still a few bottles of V. Sattui Cabernet Sauvignon, just a few, lingering in my cellar from the latter days of that monthly subscription. Lenn’s choice of topics has given me a perfect excuse to dispatch with one of them.
Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon “Suzanne’s Vineyard,” V. Sattui Winery 1995
I’m consistently amazed at how differently good California wines and good European wines evolve. At thirteen years from its vintage, this is still extremely solid in color, a dark ruby red just barely going pale around the edge of the glass. It’s also still surprisingly sturdy, with resolved but firm tannins and an edge of acidity that still merits a good grilled steak. 1995 sits right between the two benchmark vintages of ’94 and ’97 in Napa, a period when things started to change from the leaner, food friendly styles of the past into today’s prevalent big-point, fruit-bomb style. This bottle still shows a sweet fruited element that’s typical to wines from the period but it also possesses a real sense of Napa Valley terroir that’s all too hard to find in many of today’s wines.
The first thing I notice when I stuck my nose in the glass was a pure blast of eucalyptus, immediate and unmistakable. Following that minty nose were hints of thyme and cedar riding on a crest of medium-rich red currant fruit. The oak influence is still present but drying and well balanced by the wine’s other traits. After an hour or two of air, the alcohol – even at a modest, fairly old school 13% level – makes itself more known than I’d like. I’d hardly chalk it up as a classic of the ages, but it’s still a pretty solid wine, one that hasn’t lost touch with its roots. I’d be happy to drink it again.
Oh yeah, the tunes….
These guys were there for me through Parts 2 and 3, and they're still turning me on today.
Exploring Burgundy: Bourgogne Passetoutgrain
Date: Tue, Aug 12, 2008 Wine Tasting
In one sense, Bourgogne Passetoutgrain is one of the easiest to understand of Burgundy’s multitude of appellations. Just follow the typical blending recipe of around 1/3 Pinot Noir and 2/3 Gamay – the fruit can be grown anywhere in Burgundy – and you’ve got the basics covered.
Of course, there’s at least a little more to it than that. Passetoutgrain (sometimes written as Passe-Tout-Grains) is a regional appellation spanning over 1200 hectares of potential vineyard area from the Yonne Department in the north to the Mâconnais in the south. Unlike Bourgogne Rouge, which is nearly always varietal Pinot Noir, Bourgogne Passetoutgrain must always be a blended red wine. The AOC discipline requires at least 1/3 Pinot Noir and allows for up to but not more than 2/3 Gamay. Additionally, Chardonnay, Pinot Blanc and Pinot Gris may be included up to a cumulative maximum of 15%. All varieties are typically co-fermented. The wines are generally designed for early, casual drinking.
As with the misleadingly apparent simplicity of understanding Bourgogne Rouge, there can actually be much more to Passetoutgrain than the above definitions suggest. Stylistic expressions of Passetoutgrain don’t tend to be as diverse as with Bourgogne Rouge. However, as with Bourgogne, a Passetoutgrain from a large négociant house may include fruit sourced from throughout all of Burgundy, truly a broadly regional expression. The wine from a small grower, on the other hand, may come solely from one village or even one vineyard. While I’d never hold up a Passetoutgrain as an exemplar of the typicity of, say, Gevrey or Chambolle, a PTG sourced purely from one of those villages is likely to have different character than one from the Mâcon or from one that represents a hodgepodge of sources. Add to that the available blending options, not to mention the question of quality, and there’s actually quite a range of possibilities. If such things matter to you – hence much of the conundrum with understanding Burgundy – the only real way to begin to know the wine is to get to know the producer.
Bourgogne Passetoutgrain “L’Exception,” Domaine Michel Lafarge 2004
Domaine Lafarge, a twelve-hectare property situated in Volnay, traces its history back to the early 19th Century. Frédéric Lafarge, working alongside his father Michel, converted the estate to completely biodynamic practices as of 2000. Lafarge’s “L’Exception” is a special cuvée, produced from very old vines, which has built a reputation for being more cellar-worthy than most other Passetoutgrains, including the estate’s regular bottling. This 2004 would seem to speak to that, as it’s still carrying plenty of vitality and should live at least a few more years before beginning its decline. It’s medium-bodied, lean and edgy in texture, with granitic minerality and a spicy, smoky personality. Clove, corned beef and pipe resin dominate the nose, while a stemmy, red berry character buzzes through on the palate. A classic Passetoutgrain sparring match between high-toned background notes and a rustic exterior. It’s also very food friendly. $25. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Wine Cellars Ltd., Briarcliff, NY.
Vineyard image courtesy of Domaine Michel Lafarge.
Philly Food Bloggers Prepare to Invade Fairmount Park
Date: Mon, Aug 11, 2008 Wine Tasting
Thanks to the intrepid organizational efforts of Ms. Taylor High, aka Lady Mac & Cheese, this coming Sunday, August 17, will mark the fourth installment of the Philly Food Bloggers Meetup and Potluck. If you're involved in some way in food, wine or beverage blogging in the greater Philadelphia area, haven't already received your invitation and would like to attend, just drop a line to mac.and.cheese.review (at) gmail (dot) com. Include a link to your blog, podcast, website or what have you and she'll send an invitation your way. We'll be picnicking all afternoon, going al fresco for meetup number four, so come on out.