Why is Burgundy so great?
Burgundy Week (in reality Burgundy Fortnight) is drawing to a close. It is the occasion for Burgundian producers to show off their latest releases (in this case the 2018 vintage) and for their principals here to make their offers to the trade and private customers alike. Given the staggering prices of some of these wines I suppose it is impressive to see the events have such an enormous pull, but I get the impression that in many cases those attending the tastings are sommeliers from big hotels and restaurants that cater to a mostly international clientele.
I miss great Burgundy. Continental colleagues, chiefly in France and Germany, often tell me that if they had to restrict their drinking to just two varieties, it would be Pinot Noir and Riesling. I have to agree. The greatest drinking experiences I have had in red wine have nearly all been Burgundy. They started with a bottle of 1971 La Tâche that I bought for FF400 (£40) from La Cave d’Hédiard in 1979 or 1980, a wine which now sells for an average of £2,136.75 a bottle.
I proceeded to amass a small collection of red Burgundy when the going was better in the nineties. These included a few bottles from my favourite grower: Christophe Roumier. Roumier didn’t show his wines this year, but you can buy them from John Armit. Roumier’s top wine — 2018 Chambolle-Musigny Les Amoureuses — would cost you about £600 a bottle, but the lovely village Chambolle would be a mere £85. There is very little left of that stash now, and I have little hope of acquiring much more.
Why is Burgundy, and red Burgundy in particular, so great? It is above all the wine of “terroir” — one that derives its quality from soil and exposition; as such, its qualities were recognised as early as the middle ages. It is amazing to stand on the limestone slopes of the Côte d’Or and see what difference is made by a few feet. Here is a grand cru plot, there, spitting distance away, is village wine of no great distinction.
That other great French wine, Bordeaux is a brand. The estate behind the label has shifted and mutated since its noble owners first flogged it to the British in the early eighteenth century. Soil is of course a vital factor, but it is first and foremost the estate that you trust and buy.
Before you raise your hand at the back, yes, estates matter in Burgundy too; but winemakers are billed as the “interpreters” of their terroir. Just as a one conductor might bring the different talented musicians of his orchestra together to produce a coherent sound, others fail. Unfortunately, as many people have learned to their cost over the years, there are a lot of growers who do not live up to their soil and the price they charge for their wines is often a reflection of the value of their “terroir” alone, not their winemaking.
And that is why we traipse off to the tastings in Burgundy Week: to find out who succeeded, and who did not. I managed just a short day of it, but I was able to include some of the big names and taste a few people’s wines I didn’t know before. The 2018 vintage was the hottest on record. Although every effort was made to bring the harvest in early, some wines will be inevitably on the alcoholic side and will have missed out on their usual finesse as a result. Lower acidity could also mean that they don’t last so long.
White Burgundy is almost entirely produced from the Chardonnay grape. A couple of Chablis to start: a nice simple one from William Fèvre which might scrape in under £20 and a hugely good Grand Cru Montée de Tonnerre which will be nearer £50. The latest Dauvissat Domaine, Agnès et Didier, have good value wines. I’d be happy with their Petit-Chablis (under £15), but even happier with the 1er Cru Beauroy.
On the Côte de Beaune, Jean-Marc Blain at Blain-Gagnard warned that the wines were quite soft, and low in acidity, but it was hard to resist his grand cru Criots-Bâtard-Montrachet. A Montrachet from Bouchard Père was also worth a detour, especially as it will cost in the region of £600 a bottle. It was holding its cards quite close to its chest. Where many of the whites had a soft “attack”, the Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumées from Philippe Colin was more aggressive and had impressive length — clearly one to watch.
There were biodynamic Meursaults from the Comtesse de Chérisey of which my favourites were the Meursault-Blagny 1er Cru La Genelotte and the Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru les Chalumeaux. Earthy organic chassagnes were provided by Fontaine-Gagnard. A predictably gorgeous Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru les Folatières came from Etienne Sauzet. Hubert Lamy in St-Aubin produced a filigree 1er Cru Les Frionnes and a weightier 1er Cru Clos de la Chatenière.
Among the Côte de Beaune reds I gave high marks to the Pommard from Fernand and Laurent Pillot and another powerful example of the same from Benjamin Leroux. Leroux was offering a Gevrey-Chambertin and a Vosne-Romanée in which he had fermented whole clusters of grapes to add vigour and zest; possibly the best of the Pommards came from the Hubert de Montille, while my favourite Volnay was Les Caillerets from Rebourgeon-Mure.
When it came to the Côte de Nuits, I was impressed as always by the Michel Gros with his silky, spicy wines from Vosne-Romanée. Bouchard had a super Corton with plenty of exotic spices. Faiveley is the biggest producer in Burgundy and quality can vary. I used to really enjoy them, and the company of François Faiveley in particular, who has passed on the reins to his son Erwan. They remain massive wines. In particular I liked the Clos de Vougeot, the magnificent Clos des Cortons and the Mazis-Chambertin.
Felettig had some very elegant wines from Chambolle-Musigny. There was a hugely promising Echézeaux Grand Cru from Jean-Marc Millot and some stupendous chambertins from the Dugat-Py and Trapet Rochelandet. Another great and massive chambertin Clos de Bèze came from Roche de Bellène, but don’t expect much change from £350.
Never fear! There are still cheaper wines from Burgundy that will give you that taste but obviously not with the concentration or finesse you’d find in the best of the premiers or grands crus. Some of the outlying crus, like Marsannay are worth buying. Look out for organic Marsannays from the Domaine René Bouvier in Gevrey and the excellent Domaine Bart, a favourite of my friend Bob in Provence who I now discover has been keeping the domaine’s wonderful chambertin Clos-de-Bèze to himself.
For us hoi polloi then, I recommend a properly sappy white: the Mâcon-Vergisson from the Domaine Eric Forest; and a red Rully Les Chaponnières. It still isn’t exactly dirt-cheap, but what is? And I should be happy to eke out my days with either (or better still — both).
