Colour and Complexity

On an impromptu week dinner at our local restaurant recently, the French chef joined me for a glass of wine after the kitchen closed and cried: “I don’t know why so many believe that the darker the colour, the better the wine is.  I really don’t know”. Then, he poured me another glass of Domaine de la Tournelle ‘Uva Arbosiana’ 2010 made from the Jura varietal Ploussard.  Domaine de la Tournells’s Ploussard is almost rosé.  The wine has almost no colour and full of complexity. Pictured above is Evelyne and Pascal Clairet of Domaine de la Tournelle in Arbois Jura during my last visit.

The chef’s comments are understandable.  Often some wine critics describe the colour as though it is a sign of importance.  “Dark as moonless night” or “stains the glass”. There are so many additives in wines now that one really has to know the producer to ensure the colour is natural.  One drop of this additive can change the intensity of colour.

When I am with a vigneron in his or her cellar tasting, the wines are presented in the order of increasing complexity, and not in the increasing shades of colour.  The same can be said of body. Colour and body are not indicators of complexity.

If you are in Burgundy with a great producer in the cellar, the shade of colour and body are least important in wine.  If you hear someone describing a bottle of ‘Les Amoureuse’ as dark as moonless night, I would like to suggest you hold close your wallet tightly.   And in Jura, the vignerons will pour reds before whites because the whites are more complex.  Wine, like us, the colour is least important.

Being There

I vividly remember the ‘Park Scene’ in Good Will Hunting movie.

This Noëlla Morantin 'Chez Charles' Sauvignon 2009 (as in Blanc) has an uncompromising taste.  I can only tell this, not because I have drunk many bottles of the wine, but because I have spent time in the cellar and walked the vineyards with Noëlla Morantin.  I have smelled the cellar and touched the vines that she farms. Her wines are inseparable from the vigneronne.   

Every now and then, not too often, even through tasting and drinking, I simply cannot translate the emotional impact of a particular wine.  The tasting notes become so distant from the experience of being there.  It is as though you are trying to describe the fragrance of your lover the very first time you pressed your nose against her flesh.

Of all the vignerons and vigneronnes that I represent, Noëlla Morantin 'Chez Charles' Sauvignon 2009 is one of those ‘Park Scene’ bottles for me.

Additional info from a Danish writer about the wine.

Minerality of Muscadet

A great Mucadet is an antithesis to modern wines of fruit bombs and full bodies.

Whereas many modern wines are described in fruits of cherries, blackberries, peaches, blah, blah and more blah, a great Muscadet has no desire to fit into a category of a particular fruit.  When tasted in a typical trade tasting without foods, a great Muscadet doesn’t even show very well. 

A great Muscadet is all about minerals and food, especially shell fishes such as raw oysters and steamed mussels.  A great Muscadet without food is like Fred without Ginger, a rose without fragrance, or Leonard Cohen without poetry.  A great Muscadet is for wine and food lovers. 

The qualifier ‘great’ is important when choosing a Muscadet because the majority of Muscadet is merely a mouthwash that is made industrially with chemical farming, lab yeasts and mechanical harvesting selling at supermarket low prices.

The good news is there is still a handful of vignerons who still give a shit.  The vignerons who farm in harmony with nature, who hand-harvest and who only stick to native yeasts.  Two of my favourites are Marc Ollivier of LaPépière and Jo Landron of Domaines Landron.  I can hug these guys! And I do every year by visiting them and thanking them for giving a shit.  Above is a picture of Jo Landron when I visited him January 2012.

Le Baratin – An Influential, Quiet Voice on the Hill

My Pantheon in Paris sits in the 20^th, not the 5^th, Arrodissement in Paris.

I remember phoning for a reservation at Le Baratin when I arrived in Paris in 2007.  All tables were reserved for the entire week.  So, I did not make it to the restaurant that year.  Well, I got luckier the next time I was in Paris.

Le Baratin sits on the hill in the 20^th Arrodisement in Paris.  Le Baratin opened its doors over 20 years ago.  Among the artisanal wine and food lovers, there is no equal to Le Baratin.  It is the place where all artisan Parisian trades’ people go to eat and drink.  It is a small restaurant, where the owner Raquel Carena is the chef and owner. It is like going to a friend’s family home for a dinner, except the chef and sommelier (the entire staff) are the best in the world! 

Simplicity and honesty reign at Le Baratin.  When I visited the restaurant, I did not recognize many dishes.  When I find myself in such situations in a restaurant that I respect, I simply surrender to the staff and I always have a great time.  By the way, if you show enthusiasm about wines, the staff may even recommend a wine from the cellar, which may not be on the chalk board.  I recommend saying “OUI” and asking the staff for a suggestion.  Oh one more thing.  Let go of your expectations on what a Parisian restaurant suppose to be and you will love Le Baratin.  

Le Baratin

3, rue Jouye Rouve, 75020 Paris

Tel: +33 1 43 49 39 70

Gamay – Celebrations at Dinner Tables

Recently, I had the pleasure to meet a sommelier from Quebec.  She was staying for a few months in our town.  She has worked a few harvests in France with the vignerons whom I respect.  While enjoying a few bottles of wines with her and other friends over a dinner, she blurted out: “Gamay is my favourite.  It accompanies foods so well.”  She went on to say: “Gamay creates an ambiance at a dinner table that no other wines can.” Those are meaningful words that are difficult to describe in words.

With her declaration, I noticed that every bottle on the dinner table was Gamay or a Gamay blend: Noella Morantin ‘Mon Cher’, Puzelat-Bonhomme ‘Le Tel Quel’, Clos duTue-Boeuf ‘La Butte’, Christophe Pacalet ‘Fleurie’, Jean Maupertuis ‘Les PierreNoires’, and Jean Foillard ‘Morgon Cuvee Corcelette’.   Unconsciously, I had brought-up all Gamay and Gamay blends from the cellar for the dinner.

My love for Gamay and Gamay blends know no bounds. Gamay grown in the volcanic hills of Beaujolais and its 10 crus are generally fuller than the Gamay grown on the limestone hills of Loire. Gamay, made with care, has butt-naked exuberance and deliciousness that no other wines can match.  And the prices are so reasonable.

Perhaps, it is the butt-naked exuberance that is translated to the ambiance at dinner tables.  Such ambiance is palpable at my favourite neighbourhood restaurants in Paris: La Nouvelle de Marie, Le Comptoir, Bistro Paul Bert, Le Bratin and Les Pipos.  All restaurants have numerous Gamay and Gamay blends.  Once you experienced such an exuberance evening at one of the restaurants, that joie de vivre will stay with you a lifetime.  Our great local restaurants (L'Abattoir, Pied-A-Terre, Tableau Bar Bistro, La Regalade, Wildebeest and The Acorn - just to name a few) now also carry Gamay and/or Gamay blends from great producers.  

There are more profound wines from other appellations in France, but I cannot think of another varietal that speaks so joyously at a dinner table than Gamay.  Every time my family has a bottle of Beaujolais, Auvergne or Loire Gamay over a meal, I swear there is a hole in my wine glass.  It is empty every time I look at it.

Bourgueil & Chinon – Introvert Personalities of Cabernet Franc

I remember Andre at my high school.  He sat at the back of the Grade 12 Physics classroom.  Although I sat next to him, he hardly spoke a word throughout that semester.  Andre sat quietly at the back of classroom and aced all exams.  It took quite a bit of time to get to know Andre.  Looking back, I understood Andre once I listened to him rather than listening to my own judgement about him.

When I drink one of the cuvées from Catherine and Pierre Breton Bourgueils or Bernard Baudry Chinons, I am transported to the time of understanding Andre. Both Bourgueils and Chinons are made from 100% Cabernet Franc.  It has a strong and silent personality.  

“Cabernet Franc needs élevage”, said Pierre Breton when I visited him this January.  Pierre likes Bourgueils and Chinons with all meats but he likes them particularly with all games, such as ducks and pheasants.  With minimal fruit and scratch tannins wrapped in minerals, the initiation to Bourgueils and Chinons can be not-so-easy going.  Bourgueil and Chinon want time and introspection.  Once one understands Bourgueil and Chinon, it is a lifetime of love.

Eric Asimov – A Different & Great Wine Critic

This book arrived at my house last week.

While the majority of Northern American wine critics are busy handing out clinical scores upon scores on wines, as though teachers perpetually stuck marking midterms but forgetting to teach, Eric Asimov,the chief wine critic of New York Times, beats to a different drum. 

While some believe that it is tastings and courses that teach us to be a wine connoisseur, Eric thinks all those things are really unnecessary.  “Buy-drink-and-love wines” is Eric’s philosophy.  I agree.

As the name of his book “How to Love Wine’ would suggest, the book is not about how to critique or taste wines but rather about the essence of wine – i.e. the pleasures of wine.

A friend recently told me that he stopped taking educational courses because they take all the pleasures out of learning.  I think wines can be like that if one is not conscious about the essence of wines.  And I believe that is what Eric Asimov’s book is all about – love and pleasures of wine.  What a pleasure to read to Eric Asimov’s book!