Featured Producer
Château de Bellevue
The good-natured proprietor of the Château de Bellevue, André Chatenoud, seems more at home in his cellars than anywhere else. Though he and his family have owned the property since 1971, the history of the château dates back to at least the 18th Century. One needs only to explore the incredible limestone caves and see the rich range of old graffiti engravings to be impressed: from harvest workers of the 1700s to American G.I.’s of the 1940s, so many of its visitors have been eager to mark their place in time through the walls of this small yet refined estate. Like other châteaux of the region, the winery is adorned with the elegant architecture of the era - the “chartreuse bordelaise.” This typical 18th century edifice is built in a U-shape, using quarried stone from under the vineyard. It is very practical: you make a living from the upper layers of soil and build your house from the deeper limestone.Lussac St-Émilion is found on the Right Bank of the Bordelais, and is often regarded as a “satellite” appellation of St-Émilion. The terroir here is characterized by exceptional quality – only surprising because the great, low prices here at Bellevue stand to shift the perceptions of what good Bordeaux should cost. All twelve hectares of the clay and limestone vineyards are farmed organically and were certified through the French agency, Ecocert in 2002. All grapes are de-stemmed and only native yeasts are used. Wines are aged in the subterranean cellars for two years before bottling. There is a beautiful mineral components and freshness to all three wines: The Sauvignon Gris (a local, white, heirloom varietal), the Lussac St-Émilion “Les Griottes” (a fresh, easy-drinking cuvée of 100% Merlot), and finally their classic Lussac St-Émilion (comprised of 95% Merlot and 5% Cabernet Franc). Recent tastings of Bellevue’s 1998, 1999, 2000, and 2005 vintages prove that one need not pay a high premium for age-worthy, elegant Bordeaux. With such lushness and mineral backbone, this small estate’s offerings only stand to impress.
Château Graville-Lacoste
Hervé Dubourdieu’s easy charm and modest disposition are complemented by his focus and ferocious perfectionism. He prefers to keep to himself, spending most of his time with his family in his modest, tasteful home, surrounded by his vineyards in the Sauternes and Graves appellations. Roûmieu-Lacoste, situated in Haut Barsac, originates from his mother’s side of the family, dating back to 1890. He also owns Château Graville-Lacoste and Château Ducasse, where he grows grapes for his Graves Blanc and Bordeaux Blanc, respectively. In the words of Dixon Brooke, “Hervé is as meticulous a person as I have encountered in France’s vineyards and wineries. Everything is kept in absolutely perfect condition, and the wines showcase the results of this care – impeccable.” Hervé is incredibly hard on himself. Despite the pedigree and complexity of the terroir and the quality of the wines, he has never been quite satisfied to rest on his laurels, always striving to outdo himself. This is most evident in his grape-sorting process for the Sauternes. Since botrytis is paramount to making great Sauternes, he employs the best harvesters available, paying them double the average wage to discern between the “noble rot,” necessary to concentrate the sugars for Sauternes, and deleterious rot. Hervé is so fastidious that he will get rid of a whole basket of fruit if a single grape with the harmful rot makes it in with healthy ones to be absolutely sure to avoid even the slightest contamination. Another thing that we love about Hervé is that he would rather entrust the selling to us than be away from his vines, so he lets us buy the lion’s share of his production. This is an important factor in keeping wine of this quality at so low a price.Roûmieu-Lacoste is in the climat of Haut Barsac, an area famous (and in fact more renowned historically than the Sauternes appellation as a whole) for its particularly robust, powerfully styled moelleux with pronounced acidity. The vineyards are just across the road from First Growth Château Climens on a similar soil: calcareous clay on fissured rock, peppered with red iron, white limestone, and grey flint gravel. The Graville-Lacoste property produces a Graves Blanc, known primarily for its stony soil composition and fresh minerality. This wine and the Bordeaux Blanc of Château Ducasse are very different from others from their appellations: Hervé blends a high proportion of Sémillon (60%) and a splash of Muscadelle (5%) with Sauvignon Blanc (35%), creating a rich, full, aromatic mid-palate to complement the clean finish. These are the perfect go-to whites that pair well with anything from fish to poultry, picnic fare to Indian curries.
Jean Foillard
Jean and Agnès Foillard took over his father’s domaine in 1980, and soon thereafter began to make Kermit Lynch customers very happy. Most of their vineyards are planted on the Côte du Py, the famed slope outside the town of Villié-Morgon and the pride of Morgon. These granite and schist soils sit on an alluvial fan at the highest point above the town and impart great complexity. However, great real estate is not the only key to Foillard’s success. Early on, Jean began to follow the teachings of Jules Chauvet, a traditionalist who defied everything that the more commercial brands were touting in the region. Jean and three other local vignerons, Marcel Lapierre, Jean-Paul Thévenet, and Guy Breton, soon joined in on the movement. This Gang of Four, as Kermit christened them, called for a return to the old practices of viticulture and vinification: starting with old vines, never using synthetic herbicides or pesticides, harvesting late, rigorously sorting to remove all but the healthiest grapes, adding minimal doses of sulfur dioxide or none at all, and refusing both chaptalization and filtration. The end result allows Morgon to express itself naturally, as it should be without the bubblegum and banana aromas of so many other Beaujolais available today. Its rustic structure, spicy notes, and mineral-laden backbone are what real Morgon is all about.This estate comprises nearly fourteen hectares. Foillard’s Morgons are deep, structured, and complex, with a velvety lushness that makes them irresistible when young despite their aging potential. Jean raises his wines in older barrels sourced from top estates in Burgundy, a logical decision for someone crafting Gamay in a Burgundian style. It is the passion and dedication of vignerons like this that have brought pride back to the crus of the Beaujolais.
Champalou
Catherine and Didier Champalou both came from vigneron families, yet their mutual sense of independence prompted the couple to brave it on their own right after completing viticultural school in Saumur. Since starting the domaine in 1983, they have not only grown their business, but their label is one of the most highly-acclaimed in the appellation. Vouvray is home to the noble Chenin Blanc, more commonly known as Pineau de la Loire in their part of the world. As widespread as Pineau is, both soil and climate play key roles in the diversity of its incarnations, and a Chenin from California gives one no hint of what the grape is capable of in the right soil.Farther inland along the Loire, in the region of the Touraine, Vouvray enjoys a warm, continental climate during the summers. Slowly dropping temperatures in autumn make for a long ripening season. Microclimates with high humidity can also bring about the beloved noble rot. The gravel and chalk in the vineyards also play a role absorbing the sun’s rays, lending increased ripeness to this part of the Touraine. The Pineau of Vouvray can be pétillant (sparkling), sec (dry and crisp), demi-sec (off-dry) or in a botrytized state called moelleux. Catherine and Didier make all four styles.
The Champalou family farms twenty-one hectares of vineyards on clay, limestone, and siliceous soils. They embrace sustainable farming while also integrating the use of the lunar calendar more traditionally associated with organic viticulture. The soils in their vineyards are rich, deep, and aerated though regular plowing. Cover crops are planted in between vineyard rows to help with excess water absorption and to encourage microbiotic activity in the soil. The Champalou house style produces wines of great elegance and tenderness, highly aromatic with impeccable balance. No one comes close to copying their distinct style.
Didier and Catherine’s daughter, Céline, has recently joined the domaine after spending her internships in New Zealand, South Africa, Languedoc, Corsica, and Canada. Daughter Virginie lives in London, and is also in the wine business. There is no question that the tradition and quality for which this domaine is known will continue for many years to come.
Podere Sante Marie
Luisa and Marino Colleoni’s native village of Bergamo is famous for its proud ramparts and medieval palaces, but to them it just couldn’t compare to the legendary natural beauty of Tuscany. The couple purchased an old property outside Montalcino known to the locals as Le Sante Marie and moved there in 1993. The following year during an evening walk in the glow of the setting sun, they spotted a bunch of grapes peeking out through the uppermost leaves of an old tree. The undergrowth was so thick that they couldn’t get to the vine, but their interest was piqued, and the next summer they got to work clearing away the scrub. When they finally finished, a neatly planted vineyard lay before them. Though many of the neglected vines had dried out, several were still intact, so they summoned the local inspector and had the vineyard certified to grow grapes for Brunello. Willingly plunging down the path that had unexpectedly opened before them, they replanted the vineyard in 1998 and produced their first wine from the 2000 harvest.Although the discovery of the vines was entirely coincidental, it seems today that the Colleonis were born to work the land. Luisa and Marino embraced organic viticulture from the start, and they are constantly searching for even more natural methods. For instance, introducing a natural predator of yellow spider mites proved just as effective against the pest as the organic insecticide used by their neighbors during a recent infestation; and they are researching the introduction of a certain spider that eats the roots of oidium in order to reduce (and eventually eliminate) the use of sulfur to protect the vines.
The northern exposure, high altitude, and marl soil (that is littered with huge seashell fossils) that characterize this property all combine to give an extremely elegant and fine Brunello that really sets itself apart from the majority of Brunellos in Montalcino. For all their seductive characteristics, these wines do not lack the characteristic muscle and concentration of Sangiovese from this part of the world. All of Marino's wines are capable of long aging, but can be enjoyed upon release especially by giving them several hours to breathe in bottle or in a decanter.
Château La Grave
Deep in the southwest of France, amidst dramatic rock formations and cliffs, the Lot River slowly snakes its way along the valley floor, coiling covetously around the charming town of Cahors. The diversity in architecture serves as a proud historical mark left by many previous generations of inhabitants. Once a former Roman town, Cahors was also as a center of commerce during the Middle Ages that served as an important crossroads for pilgrims on the trail to Santiago de Compostella. Among the many specialties that have brought pride to the region, the constant has been its wine. A.O.C. Cahors is known as the “black wine” of the Southwest—the deeply inky, earthy wines that seem to complement the regional fare of duck (and duck fat!) so wonderfully. Cahors is also the birthplace of Cot, the grape more commonly known as Malbec.Philippe Bernède is no stranger to the south-west as his family has farmed vines here for many generations. His Château La Grave stands out as it is 100% Malbec, a rarity here in Cahors as most often the wines are blended with up to 30% Merlot or Tannat. La Grave is an incredible value on multiple levels—it is a hearty, full-bodied wine to drink now and a top candidate for your cellar.
La Marca di San Michele
The La Marca di San Michele estate in Cupramontana is run by the sibling team of Alessandro Bonci, Beatrice Bonci, and Daniela Quaresima. They are light years ahead of most of their neighbors in growing their six hectares of Verdicchio vines entirely organically, vinifying with minimal SO2, aging some cuvées in large botte, and bottling unfiltered. Cupramontana is the historical birthplace of Verdicchio production in Le Marche–the region’s first vineyards were registered in the land office here in 1471. Camaldolite monks began viticulture here many centuries earlier in 1186, in the area of San Michele, a rural frazione bordering Cupramontana. La Marca refers to a “border district.” All of these rural territories were united to form the region of “Le Marche,” the only Italian region that takes the plural.This estate represents a real diamond in the rough in this immense and beautiful region of largely untapped potential. In the family’s capable hands, the Verdicchio grape shows its potential to make one of the most exciting white wines of Italy. La Marca produces two main white wines, a DOC Verdicchio di Castelli di Jesi Classico Superiore called “Capovolto” that is tank-aged and a DOCG Verdicchio di Castelli di Jesi Riserva called “Passolento” that is botte-aged with full malolactic fermentation. Their vineyards are planted on a 12 million year old former limestone seabed, on slopes climbing the foothills of the Apennine mountains facing east towards the Adriatic sea. The dynamic young leadership of La Marca is producing wines from this bountiful land of green rolling hills that will inspire your senses and transport you to this breathtaking land.
Domaine de Gioielli
Cap Corse, a largely isolated and thinly populated peninsula at the top of Corsica, sits like a finger pointing up at Genova, its former colonial ruler. The Genovese landed on the Cap in the 14th century and from there soon conquered the entire island. On the Cap, they left an indelible mark on the land, building towers on the cliffs overlooking the sea to watch for other invaders. One Genovese in particular, Monsignor Doria, from one of the most illustrious families of the Genovese Empire, landed in the Cap and settled in a cove not far from the sea, creating an estate he came to call his “Gioielli” or his “Crown Jewel” in the dialect of the time. A villa was built in the middle of the hills which form a natural amphitheatre and on which vines and olives were planted and flourished.Several centuries later, with the Genovese long since expelled, the towers they built left crumbling (such as the one on the domaines label), and the Doria estate abandoned and in ruins, a young Corsican by the name of Michel Angeli moved in and reclaimed the land. Michel is from the nearby city of Bastia, but moved out to the country with his family to escape the bombardments of the city during World War II. It was then in the countryside that he found solace as well as finding the forgotten piece of land called Gioielli. After the war he took cuttings of Vermentinu and Codivarta from neighboring farmers, some Niellucciu from Patrimonio and some Aleatico from nearby Elba Island to replant his slopes. His first harvest was in 1952 and Gioielli was reborn, much to the delight of the local seafaring and fisherman population, who have remained loyal clientele ever since.
Little has changed at the domaine since it began, and it is still Michel who works the vines and makes the wines on his own as he has done for nearly six decades. The tourist buses do not stop at Domaine Gioielli—in fact, it is very hard to find. Angeli never intended to make his wines known beyond his neck of the woods and never exported anywhere, not even to mainland France (!) before meeting Kermit. Since the beginning he has paid little attention to the outside world, uninterested in the new technologies and fads that have afflicted so many other domaines. His wines have a timeless sense of place, much as the one who makes them, a wise, gentle, true artisan who lives for his métier.
Daniel Chotard
Daniel Chotard and his wife, Brigitte, live just outside Sancerre in the village of Reigny. The Chotard family has been making wine for well over two hundred years, though Daniel was initially reluctant to accept the family vocation and started as a teacher. Daniel is a bit of a Renaissance man. His enthusiasm and passion for learning extends beyond wine and into music; he is a gifted guitarist and accordion player. A visit to his website illustrates the symmetry between his music and his wines. Sauvignon Blanc is more than a grape variety; it is a tempo as well. He organizes lively music and wine soirées that showcase wine as an equally compelling art form to jazz. He has also invited Kermit to bring his rootsy band to perform in Sancerre – stay tuned for concert dates!In recent years, Daniel has passed the reins of the domaine on to his son Simon. The terroir of Sancerre is widely regarded as producing one of the greatest expressions of the Sauvignon Blanc grape. Sancerre was once more celebrated for its red wine, a Parisian bistro favorite. Simon grows Pinot Noir as well, used to make both red wine and rosé. The hilltop town of Sancerre is surrounded by a commune of villages that collectively make up its eponymous appellation, and each village is blessed with varieties of a distinct limestone that imbues a lengthy mineral component to its wines. He farms the slopes of the village Crezancy-en-Sancerre, where flint meets clay and the famous Kimmeridgian limestone. Simon practices sustainable farming, and uses organic composts to treat the vines. Typically, he harvests his grapes later than his neighbors, which results in less of the acidity that is so typical of the appellation. Aging the wine on its lees further rounds the mid-palate. Like his the music of his father, Simon’s wines are luscious and complex with deep notes and long, satisfying finales.
Domaine Diochon
At the foot of the rolling vineyards of Moulin-à-Vent, just across the road from its famous namesake windmill, Domaine Diochon has been making Beaujolais the old-fashioned way since 1935. Bernard Diochon, the beloved, mustachioed character immortalized by photographer Gail Skoff, succeeded his father in 1967. As a torch bearer to the ancestral methods passed down to him, Bernard explains,I like tannic wines without heaviness; with fruit and floral aromas. I don’t like weighty wines with hard tannins. My favorite wines are St Emilion from Bordeaux, and Chambolle-Musigny and Nuits-St-Georges from Burgundy. Every vigneron naturally chooses to make wines in the style they prefer. It works well that Kermit and I share the same taste; it’s what has allowed our relationship to last for so long.
Picking when the grapes are perfectly mature, traditional whole cluster fermentations, aging in large old oak foudres, and bottling unfiltered in the springtime have characterized the house style.
According to Bernard, one of the most unique qualities of the domaine is the quality of the soil that they farm. Crumbly granite allows the vines to plunge easily towards “gore” subsoil, which feeds the vines, while adding a pronounced mineral component to the wine. (James E. Wilson, author of Terroir, explains gore to be an accumulated mass of sand and thin clay deposits with weathered feldspars, mica, and quartz.) Given the old age of his vines, anywhere between forty and one hundred years old, yields are naturally small. These are wines that are easy to enjoy in their youth but can handle years of cellar aging with great ease.
In 2007, Bernard wanted to retire but had no heirs. He appointed Thomas Patenôtre as his heir apparent, which has turned out to be an easy transition. We are grateful that the Diochon tradition continues through Thomas, safeguarding the ancestral methods that distinguish real Beaujolais from the mass-produced and highly over-commercialized juice that floods the market today.
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.