Featured Producer
Domaine Trotereau
Pierre Ragon of Domaine Trotereau is as much an icon of the small appellation of Quincy in the Loire Valley as the appellation itself is a historical icon for the whole of France. Quincy was the second recognized appellation in France in 1936, second only to Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Grapes had long been planted here, however, with Sauvignon Blanc having been introduced by Cistercian monks in the 12th century. Southwest of Sancerre, on the banks of a tributary of the Loire River, the Cher, the relatively small appellation of 200 hectares is located between the villages of Vierzon and Bourges. The sandy, silex-ridden topsoil with an undercurrent of pink limestone is truly unique, unlike any other Sauvignon Blanc appellation in the world, and gives a very particular wine. Sauvignon is able to ripen more fully here while retaining a very interesting aromatic profile, and the wines are capable of aging quite gracefully.As recently as fifty years ago, the wines of Quincy were more recognized in France for their quality than Sancerre or Pouilly-Fumé, and commanded a higher price. Today the appellation has largely faded from recognition, and cave cooperatives have bought up a lot of the land at pennies on the dollar. Most at Quincy try to make bracing, nervy Sauvignons that recall the typical style that can be produced anywhere, and there are precious few willing or able to take the risks necessary to produce the type of wine that made Quincy famous and that only their terroir can produce. Ever since Denis Jaumier retired after bottling the 2005 vintage, we’ve been looking for a worthy successor. Pierre Ragon’s vines happen to sit right next to some of Jaumier’s old parcels, and Pierre hasn’t rushed to replant with higher yielding clones since he took over the reins in 1973 at this storied family domaine founded in 1804. He is now blessed with vines over 100 years old that are still producing exceptional fruit. With pride and excitement, we once again bring you the real deal from Quincy.
Domaine Comte Abbatucci
In the colorful, picturesque city of Ajaccio, capital of Corsica, you can’t get very far without seeing the name Abbatucci. There are streets, monuments and plazas that carry the name, which is normal given that General Jean-Charles Abbatucci from Ajaccio was a hero of the French Revolution and comrade in arms of another local hero, Napoléon Bonaparte. Step into a wine bar or a restaurant there, chances are these days they’ll pour you a glass of Domaine Abbatucci. The domaine is run by Jean-Charles Abbatucci, a direct descendant of the General, who has now become a local hero of another kind—for providing the local populace with its most sought-after libation.Corsicans are proud defenders of their traditions and environment, and with Abbatucci they indulge guilt-free. His wines are certified biodynamic, and he believes in following even the most far-out biodynamic practices to the letter. On his large estate south of Ajaccio he keeps a pristine poly-culture ecosystem in place, complete with herds of sheep foraging through his vines, groves of olive trees on ancient terraces, and large swaths of untouched forests. His vines come from cuttings of indigenous grapes, sourced decades ago high up in the isolated and mountainous interior of the island from elderly peasant farmers, effectively saving several native varieties from extinction. To keep his vines happy, he’s known to drive his tractor out to his vineyards and play traditional Corsican polyphonic songs over loudspeakers for their benefit. After the harvest he’ll treat his cellar to the same music as his grapes ferment and come of age. All part of the terroir, he says. Does all this have an actual effect on the wine? Have a taste for yourself. The proof just might be in the pudding.
Domaine de Terrebrune
Before acquiring vineyards, Georges Delille trained as a sommelier in Paris. In 1963, he bought what would become Domaine de Terrebrune, a property in Ollioules, just east of Bandol, framed by the Mediterranean and the mountain called Gros-Cerveau (Big Brain), dotted with olive groves and scenic views—an idyllic spot. During the years following the declaration of A.O.C. Bandol (1941), mass overhauling and reconstruction of vineyards were commonplace, and vignerons were eager to revive the noble Mourvèdre grape. Georges spent ten years just renovating the property; he terraced hillsides, refashioned the masonry, replanted vineyards following the advice of Lucien Peyraud, designated soils to lie dormant and regenerate, and built a new cellar. In 1980, his son Reynald joined him after finishing winemaking school, and together they launched their first bottled vintage of Domaine de Terrebrune, which Reynald named in honor of the rich, brown soils they farm.Reynald’s Bandols are different. There is a more ethereal quality to them, a real freshness—and with Mourvèdre accounting for 85% of the final assemblage, this is praise indeed. Soil, climate, and winemaking all play a role. Limestone dominates the subsoil of Bandol, with tremendous variation between vineyards. Throughout Terrebrune’s thirty hectares, beneath the layers of clay and earth, the blue, fissured, Trias limestone is silently at work. This bedrock lends a more noticeable minerality to the wine than others. The soil here is healthy and full of nutrients, because he adheres to organic farming practices; to achieve the balance in the vineyards, he plows regularly. Gentle maritime breezes funnel air into the vineyards directly from the Mediterranean, cooling the grapes from the bright sun—another factor in safeguarding the freshness. This, in turn translates to wines for great long-term cellaring, including the rosé and dry white. Reynald’s credo of “Philosophy, Rigor, and Respect” is not a catch-phrase. He believes that the hard work and extra attention to the vines is worth it, and, as they say, the proof’s in the pudding—a glass of Terrebrune!
La Grange de Quatre Sous
Hildegard Horat-Diop’s rebellious streak, verve, and innate talent have made her a star of the Languedoc. Though she began making wine at a time when female winemakers in France were rare, she also broke many other social conventions along the way. She had started her career in her native Switzerland, where she was actively working as a restorer to old monuments. It all changed in 1975 when she and her first husband, Ernst Wirz, visited the Languedoc and fell in love with the domaine, La Grange de Quatre Sous. At the time, the property was in complete disrepair. It is a unique piece of land that borders an ancient Roman road, and the buildings are said to have belonged to the medieval order of the Knights of Malta, also known as the Hospitaliers. She and Ernst undertook extensive renovations, including an overhaul and replanting of the vineyards in 1983. Over the years, they slowly gravitated towards organic farming. By the time she received official certification in 1999, she had already been farming sustainably for several years. It was around that same time that she and Ernst split, and she started managing the property entirely on her own. Today, she is now part of a group called Vinifilles, an association of eighteen female winegrowers in Languedoc-Rousillion who assemble to share their research and expertise with each other. She is well-respected by her peers, so much so that Kermit refers to her wine as “grand cru quality.”Hildegard has since remarried and continues to direct this eight-hectare farm outside of the very small village of Assignac (145 inhabitants) in the appellation of Saint-Chinian. Though her vineyards sit comfortably within the boundaries of the A.O.C. Saint-Chinian, she prefers to take the lesser designation of Vin de Pays d’Oc, so she can plant the varietals that she wants, and make her wine without the same imposed rules and restrictions. Over the years, she has introduced unlikely grape varietals into her plantings, namely Malbec, and at times has experimented with some eclectic Swiss varietals. Not surprisingly, Hildegard’s wines are intense and powerful. Enjoy them with some bottle age or decanting.
Domaine La Tour Vieille
The vibrant little seaport town of Collioure is nestled on the Mediterranean coast, just north of the Spanish border, in the area known as French Catalonia. In 1981, Vincent Cantié and Christine Campadieu took over two small, family-owned domaines where they had grown up, in Collioure and Banyuls, respectively. Together, they farm vineyards planted on steep, schist terraces overlooking the sea, where they are constantly exposed to the fierce and wily wind known as “La Tramontagne.” This constant wind not only ensures naturally low yields, but also keeps the grapes free of mildew with little need for pesticides or copper sulfate. Their vineyards are so steep that cultivation must be by hand, and extensive irrigation canals and walls (all made from the schist rock) are their only prevention against soil erosion, although there is almost no soil left to recede! These canals snake down the hillsides, separating the parcels. At harvest, the grapes are carried up and down the mountain in baskets. This method of farming, while extremely challenging, preserves the traditions of their ancestors. Such ideals have inspired two documentaries, Wine From the Heart by Yasha Aginsky (2002), and a short film sponsored by Project NOÉ for the defense of the European viticultural heritage.Though the majority of the Tour Vieille holdings are planted with Grenache Noir, they also work with Grenache Gris, Grenache Blanc, Macabeo, Syrah, and Carignan. They have several single vineyard bottlings of Collioure, and several cuvées of Banyuls, from Christine’s family’s holdings. Banyuls, neighbor of Collioure, sits only two kilometers from the Spanish border; it is famous for its fortified wines. Tour Vieille also produces a wide range of practically extinct late harvest and extended elevage white and red wines, the ultimate meditation wines at the end of a meal. The heart, soul, and hard work that go into crafting these wines make their labor of love all the more delicious.
Domaine Follin-Arbelet
Still waters run deep with Franck Follin-Arbelet. He may seem quiet and unassuming, but the intensity of his wines speaks louder than words. Having grown up in Burgundy’s famous Côte d’Or, he was always attracted to viticulture, but his family’s vines were all rented out to métayeurs (share croppers), and they did not make their own wine. Instead, he gravitated towards Geology, a field that gave him an expertise in soil. His wife, Christine, comes from the famous Latour family, and her father, André Masson (once the régisseur at the Hospices de Beaune), had his own vines. In 1990, when the opportunity came to join André’s domaine in Aloxe-Corton, Franck jumped at the chance, giving up one noble career in terroir to take on another. In 1993, André retired and Franck took over the direction of the domaine.Franck and Christine are fortunate to produce one village wine, four premier crus, and four grand crus in Aloxe-Corton (their hometown), Pernand-Vergelesses, and Vosne-Romanée. Pedigreed land such as this demands much of its stewards, and these vines are farmed sustainably without synthetic fertilizers or weed killers, working the soils regularly to aerate them and keep them healthy. Their winery and cellars are as picturesque as they are practical—said to be the deepest in their village. In traditional Burgundian homes of this time (1764), the family lives on the second and third floors, above a first floor winery and deep cellars below. This kind of depth makes the cellars colder and more humid than most, two key components in crafting age-worthy wines. Vinifications are in the old-school style, fermenting slowly in open-top wooden vats, using only indigenous yeasts, and the wines are bottled in all of their unadultered glory, unfined and unfiltered. Both pure and intense, they are deep with stony freshness, explosive with bright fruit, and framed with balanced structure.
When asked what inspires him the most, Franck responded, “wine that represents its terroir and a job well done.” Simply put; not so simply executed—but tasting the wines of Domaine Follin-Arbelet is not only inspirational—it is a revelation.
Domaine Lucien Boillot et Fils
Pierre Boillot is a rare master of both the Côtes de Beaune and the Côtes de Nuits–not only does he have the vineyards but also the savoir-faire and skill. Pierre inherited this domaine from his father Lucien, whose name it still carries. Pierre worked together with his brother Louis for years, but a few years ago they parted ways and split up the family holdings. Pierre’s talent has become much more evident as he has had full control over this domaine, and in addition to retaining the original cellars in Gevrey-Chambertin, Pierre has instituted a rigorous revitalizing of the soils and vines in all of his vineyards.Pierre inherited very old vines from his father in the Côtes de Nuits and from his great-grandfather Henri Boillot, who was originally from Volnay, in the Côtes de Beaune. Many of his vineyards are under-appreciated treasures: Volnay Les Angles, which was originally classified as one of the top premier cru sites in Volnay in the 19th century, Pommard Croix Noires right below Rugiens, Gevrey Cherbaudes right next to Chapelle-Chambertin Grand Cru and Gevrey Corbeaux right next to Mazis-Chambertin Grand Cru. Every wine is a classic representation of its appellation–from Volnay and Pommard to Gevrey and Nuits-Saint-Georges, as Pierre’s work in the cellars is geared towards transparent, terroir-driven wines of purity and finesse. He is not, however, against a rich, plump, lusciousness in his reds.
Domaine Ostertag
To call André Ostertag a revolutionary winemaker is to tell just half the story. He is a pioneer, certainly, but also an ardent environmentalist (as demonstrated in both his wine and his sculpture, another passion). After training in Burgundy, André returned to the family domaine in Alsace with renewed zeal: he lowered yields considerably and introduced viticultural and vinification techniques from other regions to his own home ground. The 1996 vintage marked his first collaboration with KLWM, and the following year he brought biodynamic viticulture to his fourteen hectares of vineyards, including his flagship parcel in the Muenchberg Grand Cru.There is poetry to Ostertag’s practices. He looks for the nuance of terroir rather than the typicity of a grape varietal. In an act of rejection against the official classifications dictated by the A.O.C., he made up his own categories: Vins de Fruit that express fruit character rather than that of a specific vineyard site, Vins de Pierre reflecting the terroir from which they originate, and Vin de Temps that rely on time and weather to encourage the development of botrytis. He ferments the majority of his wines completely dry, so their versatility at the table surpasses that of many other wines from the region. In Ostertag’s experience, a careful use of oak subtly enhances the traditional Alsatian varietals from the Pinot family, giving them greater depth on the palate. He uses oak sourced exclusively from the Vosges Mountains and, for his Pinots, prefers barriques to the traditional foudres. He rejects formulaic, scientifically engineered wines, and since going biodynamic in 1997, has been an active member of the natural farming community. As he so beautifully explains in Kermit Lynch’s Inspiring Thirst,
…true quality is that which succeeds in surprising and moving us. It is not locked inside a formula. Its essence is subtle (subjective) and never rational. It resides in the unique, the singular, but it is ultimately connected to something more universal. A great wine is one in which quality is contained. Such a wine will necessarily be uncommon and decidedly unique because it cannot be like any other, and because of this fact it will be atypical, or only typical of itself. (p 279)
That is a quote we wish more wine critics would take to heart.
Blog posts on Domaine Ostertag:
White Wine For Aging? It Is Time To Look To Alsace
Domaine Hippolyte Reverdy
Hippolyte Reverdy’s family has been making wine in the charming village of Verdigny, a commune of Sancerre in the eastern Loire, for many generations—perhaps as far back as 1600. Traditional in nature, the farm was planted to multiple crops, and the Reverdys raised goats and made small quantities of wine from their own vines for local consumption. It was not until the end of World War II that Hippolyte began increasing his Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir production, selling it to accommodate increasing demands from Paris. Hippolyte and his three sons began bottling small quantities under their own label, although the lion’s share of the grapes was still being sold off to the local cave coopérative. Michel joined his father and brothers in 1971, shortly after finishing high school. Kermit began working with the domaine for the first time in 1983. Shortly after, the passing of Michel’s father and the untimely deaths of his two brothers brought a climate of sadness to the domaine. Michel was left with his mother to bear the burden of loss and to assume the responsibility of running the farm alone. Slowly but surely, Michel has found his own rhythm. After tasting a Sancerre rouge from the domaine, Kermit asked Michel to craft one for him in the traditional demi-muids, and specified that he would like it unfiltered. Once convinced of the quality, Michel expanded the winery to accommodate these new reds. Since then, his rouge is the talk of Sancerre, one of a kind.Today, Michel farms fourteen hectares of vineyards on his own. Chris Santini, our man in France, writes of Michel, “His dedication is total. He’s one of the few remaining vignerons in France who truly live like a paysan [peasant]. No vacation, no travel, ever. He’s happy just to stay on the farm, working seven days a week, and wanting nothing more and nothing less…[Michel] plans to keep working the land until he physically can’t get himself out to the vines any longer.” In earlier days, Kermit considered the Sancerre blanc very good, with great typicity, although since Michel has taken the reins, Kermit says that Reverdy has since “become the benchmark domaine of our day.”
Domaine Leon Barral
Didier Barral represents the thirteenth generation to grow grapes in the tiny hamlet of Lenthéric, within the confines of the Faugères appellation deep in the heart of the Languedoc. While his forebears made a living off of cultivating the vine, Didier took the family business to the next level when he began estate-bottling and commercializing his wines on a larger scale in 1993. Named for Didier's grandfather, Domaine Leon Barral is a beacon of revolutionary winegrowing: shortly after founding the domaine, Didier decided that biodynamic practices were the best choice for farming his thirty hectares of vineyards. He has pioneered numerous innovative agronomic techniques with the goal of establishing his vineyards as a self-sustaining ecosystem. This Renaissance man, naturalist, and biodynamic maven commands tremendous respect among his peers for his visionary approach to topics like soil management, pest control, and drought mitigation in his vineyards.Incorporating biodynamic practices necessitates enormous investment and an uncompromising work ethic. With so much land to farm, it is fortunate that Didier has so much help. His workers of choice? A team of twenty cows, horses, and pigs that roam the vineyards during winter, grazing the cover crops while adding natural fertilizer to the soil. Without compacting the earth the way a tractor would, the animals effectively cultivate healthy microbial activity, bringing mushrooms, ants, ladybugs, earthworms, and other essential life forms, which add important nutrients while aerating the soil. This is the concept of sustainability at its finest, where the ecosystem thrives from the symbiotic relationships Didier has fostered amid the vines.
This approach ultimately translates to tremendously powerful, complex, and age-worthy wines inflected with an earthy mineral note from the schist soils of Faugères. Most of Didier’s vines get full southern sun exposure; in this Mediterranean climate where summer heat waves and drought are constant during the growing season, pruning in the gobelet style shelters the grapes from the blistering sun. Most of his vines are very old—some up to ninety years of age—keeping yields naturally low. Once in the cellar, Didier’s harvest is cared for with the same zeal, although he would consider the wine all but finished once it leaves the vineyard. This level of artisanship was once nearly extinct, had it not been for Didier and the profound influence he is having over other viticulteurs who now see how his work ethic and ideology translates to results.
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.