Featured Producer
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.
Domaine Les Mille Vignes
Not until Jacques Guérin retired from his post as an oenology professor in Orange did he found Domaine Les Mille Vignes. In the late 1970s, he moved to the tiny Languedoc-Roussillon village of La Palme, just a stone’s throw from the Mediterranean. Soon after, he began producing wine from nearby Fitou and Rivesaltes. The wines produced in the area at the time were certainly not driven by quality, but Jacques saw potential in the terroir and had a vision to revitalize his vineyards, focusing on low yields and organic principles, convinced that he would soon be able to produce great wine. Today, Jacques’ daughter, Valérie Guérin has carried on his ethic in the vineyard and cellar.Fitou produces exclusively red wine and in 1948, became the first Languedoc AOC. The terroir is an amalgam of strong natural elements: clay, limestone, and schist soils; wild scrubland scented with thyme and lavender, and perhaps the most potent force of all, Tramontagne—a fierce wind that sometimes seems it will never stop blowing. Rivesaltes and Muscat de Rivesaltes are both Vin Doux Naturels (a designation for naturally sweet wines from southern France) and are produced within the borders of the Fitou appellation. Rivesaltes can be a variation of colors and styles, though always sweet and fortified like its Muscat counterpart.
Valérie’s wines have gained an ardent following in Paris and it was from the sommelier at the Parisian restaurant “Frenchie” that Kermit first heard of Les Mille Vignes. During the summer of 2013 Kermit visited the domaine and returned saying that “everything I tasted was beyond marvelous.” These are the wines that he raved about in his 2013 NY Times Magazine interview. The addition of Les Mille Vignes to our portfolio not only geographically fills in the space between Banyuls and Corbières but adds true depth and variety to our wines from the Languedoc-Roussillon.
Thomas Jefferson imported impressive quantities of such wines for his own cellar.
Villa di Geggiano
The brothers who run this estate boast a grand villa just outside Siena, a pope in the family, three last names, and some of the best Chianti Classico on the market today. Andrea and Alessandro Boscu Bianchi Bandinelli are the current proprietors of the Villa di Geggiano, a national monument that has been in their family since 1527; documents show that the family was already producing wine here and exporting it to Great Britain in 1725. Originally the family’s summer house, the villa still touts its 18th-century décor and furnishings, and the family is proud to tell of the famous guests who have graced these rooms. Today the estate covers twenty hectares, encompassing the formal outdoor theater that is still used in the summer, a tantalizing vegetable garden, and grounds that include about eight hectares of vineyards. Andrea generally handles the commercial side of the business while Alessandro prefers to stay in the vineyards and cellar, but both brothers are well versed in every aspect of the operation and make decisions jointly. Being especially concerned with the environmental aspect of their craft, they have always worked their vineyards organically, and the estate obtained official certification in 2006.Geggiano follows the classic tenet that wine resembles its maker: these are distinguished, classy cuvees that nevertheless show the distinct stamp of the terroir. This Chianti earns the title of Classico not just by meeting technical requirements but with its full personality, which shows the balance of bright fruit, a deep, leathery core, and vibrant acidity that is the region’s signature. The recurrent theme when Geggiano is mentioned at KLWM is food pairings (a high compliment coming from this crowd) because theirs are quintessential food wines and the perfect accompaniment to so many dishes, especially Tuscan ones, from grilled vegetables to wild boar ragù. When Kermit has the good fortune to stay for lunch, he comes back raving about it, which makes for some jealous smirks from the staff.
The Guest House at Villa di Geggiano
Domaine Maestracci
High in the foothills of Monte Grossu mountain, inland from Calvi, lies the granite plateau of Reginu, an area long known for U Vinu di E Prove – the wine of the Prove, as the micro-climate is known. The particularity of the plateau is the exposition to hot and dry daytime temperatures with high altitude cool nights, all within a short distance from the sea and regular maritime winds. The plateau has been continuously used for vine and olive growing for centuries, and was once the site of a major olive pressing operation that supplied a large part of France with its olive oil. In 1945, when the owner of the olive oil mill packed up and moved his operation to colonial Algeria in search of bigger land and greater profits, Roger Maestracci saw a golden opportunity and moved in. The departing olive oil baron had left behind a massive concrete structure with walls so thick the air inside stayed cool year round. Originally used to house the mill and the pressed oil, Roger adapted the structure for old wooden casks and concrete tanks and set about replanting vines on the property. Within a few years the domaine had established a firm reputation in the area and when it came time for Roger to retire in the early 1980’s he passed along the reins of the domaine to his son-in-law, Michel Raoust, who has since handed over the winemaking and winery management to his daughter, Camille-Anaïs Raoust. Given the particularity of the terroir and the diverse influence of the temperature variations and granite soils, Camille allows the red an extended time to age and mellow before release, at least two years in large oak casks, while the white is bottled young to maintain the freshness and iodized ocean breeze of the terroir. The wines Camille makes are quintessential Mediterranean food wines.
Domaine Roland Lavantureux
With a sharp eye, natural instinct, and solid Burgundian pragmatism, Roland Lavantureux made a name for himself crafting no-nonsense Chablis that has come to be one of the most reliable of the old reliables here at Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant. Upon his completion of wine school in Beaune, Roland founded the domaine in 1978 in the town of Lignorelles, about four miles northwest of Chablis. Today, his two sons have taken over the Domaine: Arnaud is in charge of the vineyards and cellar, while David takes the lead in marketing and sales. In addition to making a stunning Chablis, the Lavantureux family also bottles a mouth-watering Petit Chablis, which, depending on the vintage, can easily rival their more highly pedigreed bottling—only proving the unwavering consistency of the Lavantureux family that has kept our relationship with them so strong for over thirty-five years.The region is best known for its Kimmeridgian soils, a highly prized terroir of limestone and clay infused with tiny, fossilized oysters. The intensely chalky sea-shell minerality lends deep complexity to whites, making this region an ideal home for the Chardonnay grape. The Portlandian soils in the extension of the Chablis appellation, known as Petit Chablis, may not enjoy the same reputation as the Kimmeridgian, yet they imbue the wines with a crisp, lively freshness and zesty, citrusy aromas that speak to the deep mineral component of northern Burgundy. There is no accounting for these imaginary appellation boundaries, because the pedigree of the wines is palpable. As Roland once told Kermit, “I don’t know why the INAO named some vines ‘Chablis’ and others ‘Petit.’ When I stand in the middle of my vineyard, the row to my left is Chablis, to the right it is Petit Chablis, but you can’t see any difference.”
Since joining the family operation, the young Arnaud and David have shown remarkable ambition and precision in their work ethic: they have increased the family holdings to twenty-one hectares, adding single-vineyard cuvées while constantly striving for more complexity and layered texture in the mineral-driven beauties they produce. The Lavantureux wines display show-stopping nerve, to be enjoyed as easily before dinner as they are with a piece of grilled fish or oysters-on-the-half-shell. These wines drink as honestly as the people who make them; they are staff favorites year after year.
Alex Foillard
To say that Gamay runs in the blood would not be such a terrible exaggeration for Alex Foillard. The son of “Gang of Four” Morgon producer Jean Foillard, Alex had early exposure to the world of wine, and more specifically, to the principles of sustainable farming and low-intervention winemaking that brought his father to stardom in natural wine circles, along with like-minded neighbors such as Marcel Lapierre, Guy Breton, and Jean-Paul Thévenet.Alex’s involvement in the family business began at a young age, as he took an early interest in the vineyards and enjoyed helping his father pick grapes during harvest. Intent on carrying on the family tradition of producing handcrafted cru Beaujolais, Alex studied agriculture at the Lycée Agricole in Montpellier, then earned a degree in viticulture and enology in Beaune, while simultaneously interning at a well-respected domaine in Nuits-Saint-Georges. Upon finishing his studies, he sought to earn further experience in vinification via additional internships in Australia plus another with a producer in Japan. Upon returning home to the Beaujolais, in 2015, Alex truly began dedicating himself to the family domaine.
The following year, and only twenty-four years old, he purchased his very own vineyards. With roughly a hectare each in the crus of Brouilly and Côte-de-Brouilly, Alex successfully diversified the Foillard cellars, until then full of Morgon along with the odd barrel of Fleurie. Though the vineyards were not certified organic, he immediately began working them according to organic principles. The 2016 vintage marked his first harvest.
Jean’s influence is evident in Alex’s solo cuvées: the wines have a seductive aromatic component, a silky texture, and a downright deliciousness that is unmistakably Foillard. After all, Alex used tried-and-true techniques to craft his wines: whole-cluster fermentation with natural yeasts, no fining or filtration, and no additives of any kind save for a minute sulfur dose at bottling. The new generation at Domaine Foillard has burst onto the scene with a bang, and the future is full of exciting possibilities for this talented Beaujolais youngster.
Villa Diamante
The story of Villa Diamante begins far away from the vine-covered rolling hills of Irpinia, east of Naples: late founder and winemaker Antoine Gaita grew up in Belgium, where his father had immigrated to work in the coal mines. After developing a passion for wine at a young age, Antoine felt the need to return to his roots so he settled back in the Campania town of Montefredane, along with his New Jersey-born wife Diamante, also a returning migrant. In 1996 they established Villa Diamante, and began to bottle organically grown Fiano di Avellino from the hillside surrounding their home. Unlike most vineyards in the area, their meager 3 hectares of Fiano face north, favoring a slow and steady ripening marked by hot days and cool nights. Antoine's primary goal was to allow the high-altitude limestone terroir of Montefredane to express itself by avoiding the use of chemicals in the vineyard while maintaining a non-interventionist approach in the cellar. Antoine experimented constantly, with his background in chemistry driving his methods as his perennial desire for improvement provided a quasi-academic thrill.Antoine tragically and unexpectedly passed away after an illness in early 2015. With the help of a consulting enologist, Diamante remains committed to ensuring his legacy lives on as a true pioneer of artisanal, terroir-driven Fiano di Avellino. Respecting the methods he championed in the vines and cellar, Antoine's family continues to craft top-quality wines that remain among the most soulful and long-lived whites of southern Italy.
After whole-cluster pressing, the juice is either inoculated from a wild yeast starter culture (pied de cuve) or with cultured yeasts selected from the vineyard, depending on the vintage. Nothing is hurried in the winemaking, as the wine completes its malolactic fermentation and ages extensively sur lie to acquire stunning mouthfeel and glorious complexity. After a year-long élevage in stainless steel, during which a natural clarification takes place, the “Vigna della Congregazione” is bottled unfined and unfiltered, with only a small dose of sulfur. The wine is an exercise in finesse, showcasing Fiano’s potential for purity and longevity along with its striking, ever-evolving aromatics. Villa Diamante’s Fiano is a unique wine, from its delicate floral perfume and mineral character in youth to the pristine texture and smoky, nutty notes it develops with bottle age.
Château de Trinquevedel
Guillaume Demoulin is the fourth generation of his family to farm the beautiful vineyards of Château de Trinquevedel. His great-grandfather, Eugène, bought the eighteenth-century château in 1936—an opportune decision that coincided with the establishment of Tavel’s A.O.C that same year. However timely, the vineyards were in terrible disrepair, and Eugène had an enormous task ahead. By 1960, the grapes were finally producing wine worthy of the Demoulin’s own bottlings, and the château had at last been restored to its former glory. Louis XIV was among the first to sing the praises of Tavel’s delicious and memorable rosés, which only stands to reason given the appellation’s grand cru reputation today. Tavel is the only A.O.C. entirely made up of rosé, which prohibits any whites or reds from wearing the label of this Southern Rhône cru. No more than sixty percent of the final blend can be made up of the noble Grenache. In other appellations where rosé is made, it is often regarded as an afterthought— most of the grapes are frequently sourced from lesser parcels, as the lighter maceration of the grapes is seen as “wasting” precious juice. In Tavel, even the best parcels may contribute to the blend, yet another aspect that makes this cru so special.Guillaume, with the help of his wife, Céline, farms thirty-two hectares of vines that are situated in the hills of the Montagne Noire (Black Mountain). Their stony vineyards resemble those of the famous Châteauneuf, comprised of sand and quartzite galets roulés (rounded stones). The climate and sun exposure produce grapes with tremendous concentration and power. The rosés of Château de Trinquevedel consistently enjoy aromas of ripe, red berries with notes of the ubiquitous spicy, garrigue.
Jean-François Ganevat
The green, rolling landscape of the Jura is a sight to behold, and the perfect picture of how a mountainous region nestled in between Burgundy and Switzerland should appear in the mind’s eye. In this cooler climate, vineyards are planted on slopes at varying altitudes and gradients. This region is home to forty different grape varietals with styles so different that they tend to shock the uninitiated. And at the heart of it all, in the charming hamlet of La Combe (just south of Lons-le-Saulnier), Jean-François Ganevat is making wine with the inspired magic of an alchemist. Known as “Fanfan” to his friends, Jean-François’ wines have occupied the better part of the hamlet, filling picturesque country cottages with barrels and barrels of his diverse yet traditional wines. He comes from a long line of winegrowers, dating as far back as 1650, although the family supplemented their grape growing with a dairy that produced milk destined for the local cheese, Comté, until 1976. After working both for his father and for the prestigious Domaine Jean-Marc Morey in Chassagne-Montrachet, Jean-François returned to the Jura in 1998 to take over the family domaine. With only eight-and-a-half hectares under vine, the family had seventeen different local varietals planted of both red and white grapes—an incredible amount of variation to consider for holdings of such small size. For such a fervent perfectionist and insatiable lover of details as Jean-François, the decision to have the domaine certified as biodynamic was a natural choice.Jean-François creates a stunning number of cuvées, ranging between thirty-five and forty every year! His methodology goes far beyond the details of the average vigneron. For some, his process would be maddening, as each cuvée calls for a highly individualized élévage. Jean-François is committed to minute doses of sulfur, so low in fact, that many fear it hurting the wines during transport. He curbs this issue entirely by aging many of his whites on the lees for extended periods of time, anywhere from two to eleven years! In all of his years making wine, he has never had a problem. In the Jura, many of the wines go through a traditional, intentional oxidation; however Jean-François aims to lend a greater lightness and elegance to wines of this style than are typical. He gravitates toward the Burgundian style, using ouillage to top off barrels. Jean-François Ganevat is a master of his craft, one of the true magicians of the eclectic. To say that his grapes are spun into gold would not be far from the truth; they are entirely otherworldly.
Domaine Bru-Baché
In a tiny stone cellar in the mountain town of Monein, Claude Loustalot continues the tradition first started by his charming uncle, founder Georges Bru-Baché. Although the Bru-Baché-Loustalot clan has been making wine in the Pyrénées since the 1960s, it was not until 1973 that they first began to bottle under their own label. Like many smaller wine regions that were decimated by phylloxera from the late nineteenth century to the early twentieth, Jurançon was one of the first to receive A.O.C. status, but has been very slow to recover its production. Since taking over the family domaine in 1994, Claude Loustalot has been bringing pride back to the Jurançon appellation and has taken steps to restore these specialized wines to their former glory.Claude farms ten hectares of terraced vineyards along steep slopes surrounded by breathtaking views of the snow-capped mountains that crown the Basque country. The majority of his holdings are planted to the indigenous varietals, Gros Manseng and Petit Manseng, the former producing a dry, crisp white genetically linked to the Albariño of Spain, and the latter producing an exquisite sweet wine. Claude has implemented biodynamic viticultural practices in the vineyards since 2006 (receiving certification in 2009), which has helped him achieve both purity of expression in his grapes as well as a completely interdependent ecosystem virtually right out of his front door, where sheep graze between vineyard rows. In his garage, he can often be seen blending herbal teas (or tisanes) like Domaine Arretxea, creating his own natural remedies for the vines.
Claude bottles six spectacular cuvées. In his bottlings of Gros Manseng, Claude plays with both tank and wood-aging. Laden with citrus notes and stony minerals (from the schist and limestone soils), these cuvées have terrific complexity for wines so refreshing and easy-to-enjoy. His Petit Manseng bottlings are simply divine. Through the process of passerillage, the grapes achieve an intense raisin-like ripeness by extended hang time on the vines. Their thick skins retain the sugars while preventing rot. They are harvested successively in November and December, concentrated and ready to press. Claude has carried the torch with such success that even the impartial reference manual, The Oxford Companion to Wine, continues to recognize the domaine’s Jurançons as among the best in the appellation.
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.