Featured Producer
Château Belles-Graves
Relatively secluded, surrounded by its vines, in a place far from the worries of the outside world, Château Belles-Graves is a small glimpse of what one person’s paradise might be like. Idyllic pastures, vineyards, and gardens decorate the landscape, and the focal point is a beautifully-tended labyrinth made of vines in the gardens of the château. Moreover, the property is rich with history: the vineyards here date to at least the 16th century, when they first appeared on a map of the region, and the building’s edifice as we know it today dates back to the 18th century, before the French Revolution. Though the ownership has changed several times, the old Domaine du Drouilleau, as it was once known, finally settled in the hands of Jean and Hermine Theallet in 1938. Until his death in 1997, Jean’s first cousin, the famed explorer Jacques Cousteau, would visit each year to taste the new vintage before resuming his travels out at sea. It is the Theallets’ grandson, Xavier Piton, who runs the seventeen-hectare estate today and receives guests at the château’s highly-recommended chambres d’hôtes. Keep it in mind for your next vacation.Situated in Lalande de Pomerol, just north of Pomerol, Belles-Graves produces Merlot-dominated wines with a lush, velvety texture and very fine tannins. The vineyards average forty years of age and are planted on slopes that descend to the east, south and west of the estate. Though they sit just across a small river from some of the famous estates of Pomerol, their greatness comes from their own terroir of varied clay and gravel where flint, quartz, and mica offer distinct mineral components to each parcel. Yields are kept low, the maceration is long, and the wines are never filtered. The final blend consists of 88% Merlot and 12% Cabernet Franc. The finesse and subtlety that characterize this wine are matched by its complexity and depth. In Bordeaux’s sea of oft-criticized, overly-expensive, and even over-rated wines, it is refreshing to find a domaine, a château, whose wine is far from banal and whose price point feels comfortable.
La Viarte
From a young age Giuseppe Ceschin had a great passion for wine, studying enology as soon as he was old enough and traveling around Italy gaining experience working for wineries in various regions. With the support of his wife, Carla, he followed his dream to Friuli, where the couple worked for thirteen long years before seizing an opportunity to purchase 35 hectares in Prepotto, near the border of Slovenia. The land was a long way from ready, but the Ceschins saw their future in it and dedicated the next decade to the hard labor of building terraces and planting new vineyards. In 1984 the family finally celebrated their first harvest and the realization of their dream. They chose the Friulian word for springtime as the name of the estate since it was the beginning of a new era in their lives.Giuseppe and Carla’s son, Giulio, says that he “grew up with their dream, breathing their passion, which helped me discover the fascinating world of wine.” Giulio and his wife Federica expanded La Viarte to 41 hectares, including 17 hectares of forest that they conserved to maintain the area’s ecological balance. After several decades managing La Viarte, Giulio decided to sell the estate to Alberto Piovan, bringing in outside management to ensure the long-term financial health of the property. Alberto has continued the focus on local heirloom varieties, such as Friulano, Ribolla Gialla, and Schioppettino, and has embraced the passion, perfectionism, and technical capabilities of the Ceschin family. He has shown both his talent and his creative side in bringing exceptional new wines to market recently, such as a lightly sparkling, gently sweet Verduzzo, and deep, complex, incredibly age-worthy Pignolo Riserva. He is also producing some of the best Refosco, Cabernet, and Merlot in Friuli. With the investments Alberto has made in the vineyards and in the talent of his team, this estate is going to continue to be a lot of fun to follow in coming years.
Terre del Vescovo
Deep in Campania’s mountainous interior, amid hazelnut groves and dense, lush woodland, small vineyard plots dot the rolling landscape. Here in rural southern Italy, an ancient history of viticulture lives on through the hands of small-scale farmers, proud custodians of this land upholding centuries of a tradition shared with the Greeks, Romans, and countless others. Home to what has been dubbed “the Barolo of the South,” the green haven known as Irpinia, an hour’s drive east of Napoli, features the noble Aglianico grape at its grandest. Indeed, the Taurasi appellation—one of just four DOCGs in Campania—is the south’s answer to the great reds of Piedmont or Tuscany, where grape and outstanding terroir come together to give immense potential through the labor of dedicated local artisans.Terre del Vescovo is a 4-hectare property in Montemarano, a top cru of the Taurasi zone where the appellation’s highest-elevation sites yield chiseled, mineral, age-worthy reds. At up to 600 meters above sea level on soils of clay and limestone, the vines benefit from significant diurnal temperature shifts crucial to developing complex, well-defined flavors and preserving freshness at this southerly latitude. Thanks to this slow maturation, the late-ripening Aglianico is harvested in November, sometimes under a blanket of snow.
Giuseppa Molettieri cultivates these vineyards (many of them 60+ years old) with her husband Luigi, intent on preserving the tradition established by her father, Giovanni. He was the first of several generations of farmers in the family to bottle his wine and gain recognition for his Taurasi, and still watches over the vines and cellar to this day. “My enologist works with just one azienda,” declares Giuseppa, “because he is my father!” Her reliance on traditional methods passed down from previous generations lies in stark contrast with the trend of consulting enologists who arguably standardize a number of the region’s wines.
Giuseppa and Luigi bottle small amounts of perfumed, textural Coda di Volpe for everyday refreshment, but their main focus is Aglianico. All three reds in the lineup are aged in enormous old Garbellotto botti—the Taurasi for up to four years, then several more in bottle before release. A beautiful marriage of deep, nuanced aromatics, high-toned acidity, and dense, silky, fine-grained tannins, Terre del Vescovo’s wines embody the finest of Irpinia’s tradizione contadina.
Patriarca Franco
It wouldn’t be true to say that the area of Piedmont kown as the “Alto Piemonte” is undergoing a renaissance because the planted acreage is still microscopic compared to a century ago. However, there is starting to be a groundswell of interest and activity in the region that is promising for the wine world as the terroirs are very good. The region is located just southwest of Lake Maggiore in the foothills of the Alps, south of the border between Switzerland and Italy, two hours north of Barolo. Gattinara is probably the best-known wine among the nine DOCs and DOCGs of the Alto Piemonte and one of its only two DOCGs.In the late nineteenth century the vineyards of the Alto Piemonte were Italy’s best known and largest. The vineyard surface at the time of 40,000 hectares was equal to the entire planted surface of all of Piedmont today! As the Langhe area of Piedmont’s wine production surged in the 20th century, led by Barolo and Barbaresco, the Alto Piedmont suffered from a mass industrial exodus that took a vibrant wine producing culture along with it. However, the land is still there, and as the wines of a few ancient artisans and a few new explorers can attest, the potential is important and hopefully economics will support the continued revitalization of the area.
The wines of Gattinara require the most Nebbiolo (known locally as Spanna) of all of the wines of the Alto Piedmont at 90% minimum. The terroir here is porphyry, an igneous rock similar to granite that is loaded with minerals and crystals and is often red or purple in color. Rustic and powerful when young, Gattinara is long-lived and requires lengthy aging in wood and bottle before it softens and develops finesse with time.
Franco Patriarca is a member of the ancient artisan category of growers in the Alto Piemonte. Franco followed in the footsteps of his father and grandfather and tends the family’s old Spanna vines, vinifying them in the tiny cellar below his home in Gattinara. His cellar is so small that he can only vinify one third of the production from his 2.5 hectares of vineyards. Franco does everything by hand, including the unfiltered bottling, and the result is an archetypal example of the DOCG with zero artifice. Franco reminds me of our very own Silvio Giamello in Barbaresco—almost no one has heard of him, including the locals, yet there is treasure in his cellars.
Champagne J. Lassalle
Jules Lassalle established this family-owned Champagne house in 1942 in the village of Chigny-Les-Roses on the Montagne de Reims. A master of his craft, he established a signature style of elegant, tightly knit wines with a certain ampleur. When he passed away in 1982 his wife, Olga, and their daughter, Chantal Decelle-Lassalle, stepped in and took over the estate, upholding Jules’ high standards and progressively pushing the domaine to the next level. In 2006 Chantal’s daughter, Angéline Templier, joined the estate as winemaker. Their twenty-eight-year tradition of “une femme, un esprit, un style” (one woman, one spirit, one style) holds true today more than ever. In the 1970s, Kermit was the first to begin importing artisanal, grower Champagne, and the Lassalles have been in the KLWM portfolio longer than anyone. Today, we are proud that the relationship has continued into the third generation of the Lassalle family.Champagne J. Lassalle works with all three varietals authorized in the region (Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier) on sixteen hectares of vineyards, all of them premier cru. These tough, hardworking women continue to follow the vinification methods established by Jules in the forties: they use the same wooden basket press he installed in the winery over fifty years ago, pressing and vinifying the individual plots separately. It is one of the rare Champagnes that has been allowed to finish its malolactic fermentation, just like the great whites from the Côte d’Or, and all cuvées are aged extensively once in bottle—even the non-vintage cuvées, which are a minimum of five years old. This results in an astonishing complexity and depth from the beginning of their range up to the luxury cuvées. Don’t miss their Blanc de Blancs, sourced uniquely from premier cru Chardonnay grown on the Montagne de Reims. It is a classic vin de terroir that ages beautifully.
Régis Minet
One could easily consider Régis Minet the Loire Valley’s answer to an action hero. He may play it cool on the outside, but at closer look, one sees a man of brooding intensity on an insatiable quest for adventure. It may just be in the blood. His grandfather, Robert Minet, was an artisan tonnelier, or barrel-maker. At the beginning of the last century, Robert kept a mere three hectares of vines in the eastern Loire town of Pouilly-sur-Loire—just enough to make the family’s wine. He, too, was very independent, living autonomously off his own livestock and fresh vegetables from his farm. When he passed away in 1976, Régis left his studies to continue the work of the domaine without giving it a second thought. Since then, he has made this tiny farm a full-time domaine, and has succeeded in adding an additional eight hectares of vineyards to the holdings. It is certain that his love of his native terroir translates into his wines, although one sees it in many other aspects of his character as well. Watching him fervently serve a plate of crottins de chevre to guests, seeing his latest fossilized finds after a day of diving into the bottom of the Loire River, or watching him tinker with his motorcycle after an epic ride is proof enough that Régis shares both his grandfather’s rogue-ishness and love of the land.Pouilly-sur-Loire produces one of the greatest Sauvignon Blancs in the world. Régis’ vineyards sit at 750 feet, surrounded by hills on the far east of the Loire River, and centered proudly on the prized limestone and clay of the Kimmeridgian chain. The scattered flint in these vineyards imbues the wines with a character quite distinctive from the neighboring village of Sancerre. In the eloquent words of KLWM Store Manager, Steve Waters, “You couldn’t ask for a cleaner, fresher, flintier, or truer expression of Sauvignon Blanc. Its mouth-watering acidity, depth of flavor, and fleshy texture will have you racing back for more.”
Lionel Faury
Along the steep, narrow valley that traces the northern Rhône, the appellations of Côte-Rôtie, Condrieu and Saint-Joseph take their place among the great wines of France, and Domaine Faury is one of the region’s most artisanal producers. When Philippe Faury took over the domaine in 1979, the family was selling wine, peaches and cherries, and the bulk of their clientele was local. Over the years, Philippe expanded their holdings to over eleven hectares, and expanded sales to an international client base. In addition, he has shared his savoir faire with his son, Lionel. Since 2006, Lionel has taken over the reins at Domaine Faury, though father and son still work side by side.The steep slopes of the northern Rhône present a challenging terrain where farming is only feasible through terracing. On these terraced slopes, the Faurys’ vines take full advantage of the southern and southeastern sun exposure, benefitting from optimum ripening. A combination of the predominately granitic soil, partial de-stemming (in about 70% of the grapes), soft crushing of the grapes with a pneumatic press, and temperature controlled fermentation offer a liveliness and freshness that one does not often find in wines from the northern Rhône. There’s a real attention to detail here, and nothing is done in haste. Every method used encourages the grape towards greatness with the ultimate respect for its fragility. Pigeage, the punching of the cap, is not carried out with tools, but gently by foot – not just poetic but also pragmatic. Unlike many other vignerons in the region, the Faurys have a strong aversion to new oak. Though the reds definitely see time in barrels, there is a rotation between new and old alike, along with a variety of sizes, ranging from the smaller barriques to the larger 600-liter demi-muids. Unfined and only lightly filtered before bottling, these wines are loaded with classic flavors and show a remarkable rustic elegance.
Antoine Arena
Antoine Arena, like most Corsicans of his generation, grew up in a family that earned a modest living working the land on an island largely unknown to the outside world. As soon as he could, he joined the mass exodus of Corsicans to the French mainland, in search of jobs and what they thought to be a better life. Several years later, in the mid 1970s, with a promising career on the mainland, the Corsican independence movement exploded with violent confrontations between nationalists and French government forces, leaving Antoine stunned.In his shock and anger, he moved back to the family farm and decided to reverse the trend and remain on the land, as his own form of protest. Many others soon followed his lead, and for the first time in over a century, the emigration from the island ebbed and Corsicans came back home to reclaim their land.
To survive off the land, Antoine knew he would need to show the world outside of Corsica what Patrimonio was capable of. And so his mission began to make the best his land could make and to spread the word. He started identifying the best parcels and vinifiying them separately, and long before his time, worked the vines organically and vinified without any added sulfur.
From the beginning of the endeavor, Antoine and his wife Marie worked tirelessly to put Patrimonio on the map to the greater French public, and with quite a success. They brought fame and respect to their appellation and are recognized nearly unanimously as being the best there is on the island. In Paris, for example, Arena is a living legend and his presence at a tasting in the city will always guarantee an over-capacity crowd. He’s close friends with the likes of the Gang of Four, Montanet, Barral, Catherine & Pierre Breton, and is as much of a bon vivant as any of them.
Now, Antoine is joined by his two sons, Antoine-Marie and Jean-Baptiste, who share Antoine’s spirit and continue to work the land and make the wine naturally, as taught by their father. As of the 2014 vintage, the Arenas have divided their holdings evenly amongst Antoine, Antoine-Marie, and Jean-Baptiste. The decision came naturally: in a typically Corsican spirit of independence, Antoine’s sons will carry on the family tradition through their very own domaines, enjoying the autonomy to work the way they desire while maintaining close family bonds and a free exchange of ideas (see Antoine-Marie Arena and Jean-Baptiste Arena). Antoine’s legacy lives on, and the Arena name will forever be associated with pioneering excellence in Corsican wine.
Domaine François Lumpp
In the late 1970s, François Lumpp and his brother inherited their family property, located in the Côte Chalonnaise. In 1991 he founded his own label with his wife, Isabelle. Using cuttings of older, selected bud wood (sélection massale), François developed his domaine around Givry's best premier cru sites, which, as in most of the Côte d’Or, are situated on the mid to upper level slopes of the rolling hillsides.Givry, along with Mercurey, is one of the two predominantly red wine producing appellations of the Côte Chalonnaise, while the neighboring appellations of Bouzeron, Rully, and Montagny produce primarily white wine. Givry is known for its refined and approachable reds, whereas Mercurey can often be harder and more austere when young. The best examples of Givry can have substantial structure, depth, and complexity, however, and can be expected to age as successfully as the premier crus of the Côte de Beaune, which is certainly the case at this address. François was one of the first to believe in the potential of Givry’s terroir for white Burgundy, and is reputed for his white today. His Chardonnays are a study in grace and balance.
The Lumpp domaine is an especially good fit here at KLWM because it embodies exactly what we have always looked for in Burgundy: a true vigneron in a specific village. Every wine François makes is from Givry, from vineyards that he planted and nurtured himself–something that is exceedingly rare in Burgundy today, and will become more and more so over time. An acknowledged leader of the appellation, his greatest achievement is harnessing the finesse we look for in Burgundian Pinot Noir—le Pinot fin.
Domaine Roger Neveu
The Neveu family’s roots in the Loire Valley are nothing short of impressive, even for European standards. The local archives show that a Jean Neveu lived in the village of Verdigny (where the family still resides) as early as the 12th century, and family documents prove that they already owned and ran an agricultural estate in 1641. It is known that grapevines made up part of the property in the 19th century, but they were sadly destroyed in the phylloxera epidemic so it wasn’t until the after World War II that winegrowing regained an important place at the domaine, with nearly all of their wine sold in bulk through the 1960s. It was Roger Neveu, father to current owners Éric and Jean-Philippe, who during the 1970s brought the domaine into its contemporary incarnation by making and bottling his own wine, and selling it directly to customers, friends, restaurants, and importers. Éric officially joined the family métier in 1977 after studying winemaking in Beaune, and Jean-Philippe followed suit ten years later after getting his degree in accounting.The love of a job well done is the goal and guiding principle of the brothers. The quality of the wine is the top priority, and giving complete satisfaction to their customers and friends is a close second. The family tradition in wine has already added another generation as both Éric and Jean-Philippe’s sons have started helping out in the vineyards and cellar.
The Clos des Bouffants, the primary Neveu family Sancerre holding, is a steep, due-south exposed, limestone vineyard located less than a half mile from the Neveu cellar. This storied vineyard was cited in the 1777 history of Sancerre, where the Abbott Poupart, priest of Sancerre, wrote, “the Bouffants hillside is one of the best I know in our Sancerre area.”
From the Blog
From the archives...An Evening with Aubert de Villaine
by Kermit Lynch
[From the July 1997 Newsletter]
Bouzeron, population 151, is a little tail’s end of a village in Burgundy where winter’s night can fall with an especially icy clunk. Its three or four streets were already dead and deserted when I drove up to Aubert de Villaine’s iron gate last November. Actually I was running a bit late, so after a handshake we descended straightaway into the cellar and its heady smells of earth, oak, and newborn wine.
Aubert de Villaine has a ready sense of humor and an enviable combination of lucidity and discretion. When I picture him, I see him just breaking into a smile, a playful gleam in his dark, intelligent eyes. Having known each other for more than 20 years, we always have too much to talk about, so our tastings bounce chaotically from comic asides to catching up on friends and family to wine trade gossip and a no-holds-barred critique of whatever we are tasting.
[caption id="attachment_7238" align="alignright" width="309"] Aubert de Villaine (© Gail Skoff)[/caption]
Of course we begin with his Aligoté de Bouzeron, considered Burgundy’s best, and Aubert said that personally he prefers 1996 to 1995. I said 1996 ($14.95) seemed leaner than the 1995. “J’aime bien les vins austères,” he said, contradicting almost the entire American wine establishment.
Then he announced that for the United States he left his 1995 white Burgundy “Les Clous” ($16.50) completely unfiltered. A true stony hillside wine, “Les Clous” always shows more race and structure than flatland Bourgognes, and I must say that it gains by remaining unfiltered because there is more flesh left on that impressive bone structure. He uncorked a 1993, too, which has opened up beautifully. If ever I make a wine, I would hope it shows such subtlety and class.
Aubert’s newest acquisition, a premier cru from Rully, Les Saint-Jacques, is a real prize. (But then, could a de Villaine settle for an ordinary terroir?) The 1995 has a delicious pear-skin aroma and a firm, full palate. The 1994 ($18.95) has so much personality that I made it a Jaded Palate selection, and the 1995 shares that same goût de terroir.
My tasting notes on the 1995 red Burgundy “La Digoine” ($18.50) begin with the word WOW and then I repeat it at the end, too, which isn’t like me. Due to 1995’s short crop, I had to settle for half the quantity I wanted.
His 1995 Mercurey “Les Montots” ($19.95) is something else entirely. “La Digoine” is so pretty a wine, but the terroir of “Les Montots” produces a more tannic, old-fashioned style. “Un vin d’autre fois,” Aubert said. But it also seems to smell of grape skins and stems and freshly cut Pinot Noir. “That is one reason I love the Mercurey,” Aubert said, “because it always recalls that smell of the harvest, you know, working the grapes, the crush.”
Something about the 1995 “Les Montots” made me think of Conrad’s title The Heart of Darkness, and the title would occur to me again before the night was over.
Right about then, as Aubert poured a taste of the 1994 Mercurey, I mentioned that I was wearing espadrilles from Provence, and that my toes were chattering. During wintertime that earthen cellar floor is like standing on an iceberg, so carrying along the 1994 Rully blanc to serve as our apéritif, we walked out into the darkness up to his house.
He built a fire first thing, poured that wonderful Rully, then showed me two new recordings of the Bach Cello suites, one by Yo-Yo Ma, the other by the Russian Mstislav Rostropovich. We decided to “taste” and compare the two performances.
I grew up with the Pablo Casals version of the suites, one of the great recorded performances of the century, so truthfully I was prepared to be a little underwhelmed by the new recordings. The Casals seems soulful, existential, the Rostropovich so emotionally vast. How their cellos seem to sing and speak. The Yo-Yo Ma is more lively, dance-like, but not as subterranean.
Right about then Aubert left to search for another white. Many of you might not be aware that he owns part of another winery farther north, in Vosne-Romanée. Anyway, he returned with a 1967 Montrachet from his other winery, which really hit the spot as we listened to the second cello suite à la Rostropovich.
Aubert began to tell me what he had heard about the actual recording of the suites, which the Russian must have believed will remain his foremost legacy as a cellist.
Rostropovich chose to record the suites in France in the ancient cathedral at Vézelay from which the Crusades were launched because, he wrote, “I saw the rhythm of the internal architecture shorn of all superfluity, with none of the gilt and ornamental trimmings of the Baroque style. I saw the severity of line and rhythm of this vaulted construction, which reminds me so powerfully of the rhythm of Bach’s music.”
Recording took two months. He recorded at the midnight hour, the cathedral silent, empty, except (I’ve been there) for whatever spooky stuff might be emanating from its crypt (which is said to have some remains of Mary Magdalene). Imagine the texture of the cello’s sound in that vast, dark, stone cathedral! And my God it is fabulous as it growls and soars.
We listened to the Sarabande from Suite no. 2. (Film buffs, didn’t Ingmar Bergman use this piece in Through a Glass Darkly? I seem to recall hearing it during a scene in the dark hull of a wrecked ship, with…was it incest, sexual initiation, both?) Is there music that searches deeper? It is terrible and magnificent. The cello’s bow seems to scrape right across your own guts.
While recording, the Russian and his wife lodged with Marc Meneau, who has the three-star restaurant L’Espérance just down the hill from Vézelay. A cellist who apparently has a healthy appetite, Rostropovich might have enjoyed some of our Bourgogne blanc “Henry de Vézelay” from Bernard Raveneau ($12.50), which is made practically next door. I like to think he did.
Back now, though, to Bouzeron, where dinner is served with a 1961 Romanée-Conti. I have, I admit, during my career, enjoyed many an old vintage, but this, this!!! I told Aubert that is has a goût de terroir, mais pas de cette terre. It is from another planet. Tasting notes? Are you kidding? I am in no mood to attempt the impossible. But what a culmination to the evening. Would I have been so receptive to the glorious intricacies of the 1961 Romanée-Conti had it not been for our passage through the Bach Cello Suites? Forget wine-and-food marriages. Here was a fusion of music and wine. The only way I could describe the wine would be to play the music.
And what a voyage the entire evening had been, starting with that first innocent burst of fresh Aligoté.
You can find the latest Bouzeron Aligoté from A. & P. de Villaine here as well as our current selection of wines from Vézelay here.
[From the July 1997 Newsletter]
Bouzeron, population 151, is a little tail’s end of a village in Burgundy where winter’s night can fall with an especially icy clunk. Its three or four streets were already dead and deserted when I drove up to Aubert de Villaine’s iron gate last November. Actually I was running a bit late, so after a handshake we descended straightaway into the cellar and its heady smells of earth, oak, and newborn wine.
Aubert de Villaine has a ready sense of humor and an enviable combination of lucidity and discretion. When I picture him, I see him just breaking into a smile, a playful gleam in his dark, intelligent eyes. Having known each other for more than 20 years, we always have too much to talk about, so our tastings bounce chaotically from comic asides to catching up on friends and family to wine trade gossip and a no-holds-barred critique of whatever we are tasting.
[caption id="attachment_7238" align="alignright" width="309"] Aubert de Villaine (© Gail Skoff)[/caption]
Of course we begin with his Aligoté de Bouzeron, considered Burgundy’s best, and Aubert said that personally he prefers 1996 to 1995. I said 1996 ($14.95) seemed leaner than the 1995. “J’aime bien les vins austères,” he said, contradicting almost the entire American wine establishment.
Then he announced that for the United States he left his 1995 white Burgundy “Les Clous” ($16.50) completely unfiltered. A true stony hillside wine, “Les Clous” always shows more race and structure than flatland Bourgognes, and I must say that it gains by remaining unfiltered because there is more flesh left on that impressive bone structure. He uncorked a 1993, too, which has opened up beautifully. If ever I make a wine, I would hope it shows such subtlety and class.
Aubert’s newest acquisition, a premier cru from Rully, Les Saint-Jacques, is a real prize. (But then, could a de Villaine settle for an ordinary terroir?) The 1995 has a delicious pear-skin aroma and a firm, full palate. The 1994 ($18.95) has so much personality that I made it a Jaded Palate selection, and the 1995 shares that same goût de terroir.
My tasting notes on the 1995 red Burgundy “La Digoine” ($18.50) begin with the word WOW and then I repeat it at the end, too, which isn’t like me. Due to 1995’s short crop, I had to settle for half the quantity I wanted.
His 1995 Mercurey “Les Montots” ($19.95) is something else entirely. “La Digoine” is so pretty a wine, but the terroir of “Les Montots” produces a more tannic, old-fashioned style. “Un vin d’autre fois,” Aubert said. But it also seems to smell of grape skins and stems and freshly cut Pinot Noir. “That is one reason I love the Mercurey,” Aubert said, “because it always recalls that smell of the harvest, you know, working the grapes, the crush.”
Something about the 1995 “Les Montots” made me think of Conrad’s title The Heart of Darkness, and the title would occur to me again before the night was over.
Right about then, as Aubert poured a taste of the 1994 Mercurey, I mentioned that I was wearing espadrilles from Provence, and that my toes were chattering. During wintertime that earthen cellar floor is like standing on an iceberg, so carrying along the 1994 Rully blanc to serve as our apéritif, we walked out into the darkness up to his house.
He built a fire first thing, poured that wonderful Rully, then showed me two new recordings of the Bach Cello suites, one by Yo-Yo Ma, the other by the Russian Mstislav Rostropovich. We decided to “taste” and compare the two performances.
I grew up with the Pablo Casals version of the suites, one of the great recorded performances of the century, so truthfully I was prepared to be a little underwhelmed by the new recordings. The Casals seems soulful, existential, the Rostropovich so emotionally vast. How their cellos seem to sing and speak. The Yo-Yo Ma is more lively, dance-like, but not as subterranean.
Right about then Aubert left to search for another white. Many of you might not be aware that he owns part of another winery farther north, in Vosne-Romanée. Anyway, he returned with a 1967 Montrachet from his other winery, which really hit the spot as we listened to the second cello suite à la Rostropovich.
Aubert began to tell me what he had heard about the actual recording of the suites, which the Russian must have believed will remain his foremost legacy as a cellist.
Rostropovich chose to record the suites in France in the ancient cathedral at Vézelay from which the Crusades were launched because, he wrote, “I saw the rhythm of the internal architecture shorn of all superfluity, with none of the gilt and ornamental trimmings of the Baroque style. I saw the severity of line and rhythm of this vaulted construction, which reminds me so powerfully of the rhythm of Bach’s music.”
Recording took two months. He recorded at the midnight hour, the cathedral silent, empty, except (I’ve been there) for whatever spooky stuff might be emanating from its crypt (which is said to have some remains of Mary Magdalene). Imagine the texture of the cello’s sound in that vast, dark, stone cathedral! And my God it is fabulous as it growls and soars.
We listened to the Sarabande from Suite no. 2. (Film buffs, didn’t Ingmar Bergman use this piece in Through a Glass Darkly? I seem to recall hearing it during a scene in the dark hull of a wrecked ship, with…was it incest, sexual initiation, both?) Is there music that searches deeper? It is terrible and magnificent. The cello’s bow seems to scrape right across your own guts.
While recording, the Russian and his wife lodged with Marc Meneau, who has the three-star restaurant L’Espérance just down the hill from Vézelay. A cellist who apparently has a healthy appetite, Rostropovich might have enjoyed some of our Bourgogne blanc “Henry de Vézelay” from Bernard Raveneau ($12.50), which is made practically next door. I like to think he did.
Back now, though, to Bouzeron, where dinner is served with a 1961 Romanée-Conti. I have, I admit, during my career, enjoyed many an old vintage, but this, this!!! I told Aubert that is has a goût de terroir, mais pas de cette terre. It is from another planet. Tasting notes? Are you kidding? I am in no mood to attempt the impossible. But what a culmination to the evening. Would I have been so receptive to the glorious intricacies of the 1961 Romanée-Conti had it not been for our passage through the Bach Cello Suites? Forget wine-and-food marriages. Here was a fusion of music and wine. The only way I could describe the wine would be to play the music.
And what a voyage the entire evening had been, starting with that first innocent burst of fresh Aligoté.
You can find the latest Bouzeron Aligoté from A. & P. de Villaine here as well as our current selection of wines from Vézelay here.