Mystery of Clos

It is not intentional.  I just noticed two of our vignerons have the word Clos in their domain names: Le Clos du-Tue Boeuf from Thierry and Jean Marie Puzelat and Clos Roche Blanche from Catherine Roussel and Didier Barrouillet.  Well, Noëlla Morantin farms half of Clos Roche Blanche.  So, Noella really belongs to the ‘Clos Club’.   There are no usual Clos in the Le Clos du-Tue Boeuf and Clos Roche Blanche.  The Clos is actually the stunning forest.  There are no neighbouring vineyards.  A huge insurance when you are farming with no pesticides and herbicides.

Then, there is the magnificent ‘Le Clos Guillot’ vineyard in Chinon from Bernard Baudry.  Although when I visited the vineyard with Matthieu Baudry multiple times, I could not see the Clos in ‘Le Clos Guillot’.  I was so mesmerized by the beauty and taste of the wine of the vineyard that I probably forgot to take notes about the historical context of the vineyard. ‘Le Clos Guillot’ is on a hill with a beautiful view. The vineyard has the unique feature of constant winds.  I think Matthieu told me the area of ‘Le Clos Guillot’ was once referred to as ‘Belles Vents’, meaning ‘Beautiful Winds’.  I was there in the early spring and I can almost taste the wind in a bottle of ‘Le Clos Guillot’ in a form of fragrance.  It is a fleeting experience to translate.  Every time I drink a bottle, I am instantly transported to that vineyard, with Matthieu being there, pouring me another glass.

Then, there is the most striking Clos Sénéchal in Bourgueil from Catherine & Pierre Breton.  There is actually the Clos in Clos Sénéchal. For a reason that is difficult for me to explain, Clos Sénéchal has a singular taste like no other.  When I am dead, I want to be buried near Clos Sénéchal.  I love Catherine & Pierre Breton ‘Clos Sénéchal’. Pictured left is Pierre Breton in his car entering the ‘Clos Sénéchal’ when I visited him.  You can see the Clos just the right the rear-view mirror.

Clos, of course, means wall in French.  Some wine texts say that Clos vineyards are the most prized.  Some wine texts say Clos was manually made so as to minimize the exposure of vines from natural elements of weather extremes, thereby leading to healthier vines and grapes.  What ever the case may be, I like to let the mystery be.  I no longer believe in demystifying wines. 

Wabi Sabi – Perfection in Imperfections

Wabi Sabi is a Japanese aesthetic for a particular type of beauty. Wabi Sabi, in essence, is the ability to see perfection in imperfections.  The two words, perfection in imperfection, are an oxymoron in harmony. 

Wabi Sabi, least to me, exists in many forms.  A weathered cedar shingle house from the 1930’s in our West Coast is Wabi Sabi.  A worn stone staircase in a building is also Wabi Sabi.  A wedding ring from my grandmother has Wabi Sabi beauty.  The patina of a worn and old linen suit is.  And so is a seasoned cast iron pan.  And so is 1963 Jaguar XKE.  And so are many old neighbourhoods of Paris, Vancouver, Brooklyn, and San Francisco. 

Wabi Sabi can only be created by nature and time.  Nature is perfect.  Nature is Wabi Sabi.  A wine that is made traditionally, without intervention and additives, is Wabi Sabi to me – a quality in wine that I appreciate the most.  Noëlla Morantin wines have that Wabi Sabi beauty that I admire the most.  Pictured above is Noëlla Morantin in the century old cellar.

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.

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.

Indigenous Yeast – Two Words that Speak Volumes

The wines that I love have one thing in common: fermentation is by indigenous or natural yeast.

A simple reference to indigenous yeast has cascading implications.  Least the way I see it after visiting many vignerons.  Indigenous yeasts can only be meaningful and successful if a vigneron practices viticulture in harmony with nature, hand-harvests, and minimal intervention in the cellar.  Pictured left is the Noella Morantin vineyard in Loire.

If a wine producer decides one day to use indigenous yeast after farming his vineyards conventionally with chemicals of herbicides and pesticides, it is not going to happen too easily over night.  Indigenous yeast lives in the vineyards.  So when vineyards are sprayed with chemical, there will not be enough indigenous yeast population for fermentation.

And if a wine producer uses a machine harvester, grapes burst and bleed before they make to cellar.  And as soon as the grapes bleed, it is grounds for a bacterial infection.  To stop the bacterial infection, a dose of sulphur must be added to the juice or crushed grapes.  Once the sulphur is added, the indigenous yeast is instantly killed.  So lab yeasts must be added.  And to feed the lab yeasts, additional chemicals need to be added.  And so a list of intervention continues.  Over-worked or intervened wines to me taste flat and soupy.

To me, the difference between the wines made from indigenous and lab yeasts are significant. The ingenious yeasted wines are lively and fresh.

The story behind indigenous yeast came up when I was listening to I’ll Drink To That – an excellent podcast out of New York where ex-sommelier Levi Dalton interviewed David Lillie of Chambers StreetWines.  I strongly recommend the podcast.  It is genuine, entertaining and educational.

I never bought into the idea that just because one can sell the wines, one doesn’t have to ask how the wines are made and taste.  I always thought it is the other way around: Because one knows how the wines are made and taste, one wants to sell them. 

Doubt the Conventional. Taste the Exceptional.

I recently read an article about Lauren Hutton. Unbelievably, she was told to fix her gapped-teeth if she wanted a career in modelling.  I just read in New York Times T-Magazine about Lana Del Rey. Some criticize her looks because her lips are too voluptuous.  The recent T-Magazine also mentioned about Willem Dafoe, who was also seen in not-so-positive light about his rough face. Well, to me, Lauren’s teeth, Lana’s lips and Willem’s face are beauty in truth.  Doubt the conventional. Experience the exceptional.

I used to love Sauvignon Blanc from all places.  Then about ten years ago, I stopped drinking the varietal.  They started to taste just about the same. “This bottle is text-book Sauvignon Blanc” is the phrase I often heard.  When someone tells me a wine is textbook varietal, the wine should remain in textbooks.

Where is my Lauren’s gap-teeth in this bottle of Sauvignon Blanc? And who surgically thinned my Lana’s lips in my Sauvignon? And who smoothed out Willem’s rough face in this bottle of Sauvignon? Damn it!

I rediscovered the beauty in truth in Sauvignon Blanc (the French simply call it Sauvignon) when I visited, tasted and learned from Clos Roche Blanche, Noëlla Morantin, and Thierry Puzelat.

Sauvignons from Thierry Puzelat (Le Clos du Tue Boeuf), Clos Roche Blanche and Noëlla Morantin

“The wine is in true expression now than when it was first released”, spoke softly Didier of Clos Roche Blanche.  He was referring to the 2010 Sauvignon No. 2 as we tasted the various wines in the cellar during my January 2012 trip. Clos Roche Blanche Sauvignon No. 2 is so singular. When tasted out of a barrel, the Sauvignon No. 2 is so energetic that I fear the wine is going to shatter the glass that I am holding.  The wine is like sucking mineral through a straw with a fruit that reminds of grapefruit. After about a year in bottle, the wine transforms not dissimilar to Chenin Blanc but not quite.  The fruit recalls quince.  The minerality remains. 

When I visited Noëlla Morantin, a marquee Sauvignon vigneronne, she had two different Sauvignons in the barrels/demi-muids.  Hers are released later when the youth of Sauvignons settles down to quince and minerality reflections.  Her Sauvignon ages gracefully.  Thierry Puzelat also makes Sauvignon wines and his is often blended with a portion of Menu Pineau and Fie Gris.  His Sauvignon based wines are full of energy and nervous tension. “Le P’Tit Blanc tastes better the next day after the bottle has been opened”, a local merchant told me recently.  And that sums up the freshness and energy in the Thierry Puzelat’s Sauvignon.

The majority of Sauvignon Blanc on the market today does not go through malolactic fermentation.  Since the majority of vineyards are industrially farmed and mechanically harvested (about 95% according to Art of Eating, September 2010 issue).  This mechanical harvest results in grapes to bleed before they arrive at the winery.  So, to prevent the bacterial spoilage, the juice is dosed with sulphur.  It kills the bacteria, which is required for the malolactic fermentation.  Thus by a default, the malolactic is prevented.  There are, of course, vignerons who cultivate organically and harvest by hand but intentionally block malolactic fermentation to achieve a certain style. 

Clos Roche Blanche, Noëlla Morantin and Thierry Puzelat all let their Sauvignon go through malolactic fermentation. “By nature, the Sauvignon wants to go through malo”, was a recurring theme when I visited them.  Clos Roche Blanche, Noëlla Morantin and Thierry Puzelat are making singular Sauvignons – all expressions of beauty in truth.  Doubt the conventional.  Drink the exceptional.

Louie, the Wild Mushroom Purveyor

“Yes, I like dried morels better, too”, mentions softly Louie.  Louie is one of my food heroes.  Often, and not always, Louie can be found at Granville Island on Thursdays.  Sometimes, his son stands-in for him because Louie is out in the forest foraging mushrooms.

Louie is my mushroom mentor during chanterelle & mushroom season in autumn, morel season during spring, and dried-mushroom season anytime.  During autumn, when the wild mushrooms are at most abundant, I simply buy whatever Louie suggests.  I sauté the mushrooms with some olive oil or butter with some shallots and devour them with toasted baguette or brioche.  Here is a recipe using Louie’s wonderful morels:

Fried Eggs with Morel Cream Sauce (serves 2)

• 10-12 dried morels (soak for about 10 minutes in least amount of boiling water as possible - about 1/4 cup of water).
• 4 free range eggs
• 3 Table spoon of butter
• 1 Table spoon of minced shallots
• 3-4 Table spoons of apple cider, red, or white vinegar
• ¼ cup of whipping cream
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Some chopped parsley

This is not breakfast.  First, pour your loved one and yourself a glass of wine.  Warm up the plates in the oven (around 150 F).  Place a frying pan on medium heat.  Add the butter. When the butter foams, crack eggs and fry them sunny-side up.  Remove the cooked eggs to the warmed plates.  Add the mined shallots and  sauté them for a minute or two.  Add the vinegar to the pan and cook until there is a very little vinegar left.  Add the juice from the soaked morels to the pan and careful to discard a tablespoon or so of the juice at the bottom of the bowl as it will contain some soil and/or impurities.  Increase the heat and cook for 1-2 minutes more until the liquid is reduced about half.  Reduce heat and add the cream and soaked morels.  Cook a couple of minutes.  Add salt & pepper to taste.  Spoon over the sauce around the plates with eggs and serve with some crusty baguette.  Eh Voila.

Soak the dried morels or other mushrooms and try them in a risotto dish.  All mushroom dishes are wine friendly.  I often have the wine with Pinot Noir or Gamay based wines, such as Le Tel Quel, Cheverny or Pinot Noir from Thierry Puzelat(Puzelat-Bonhomme or his family estate of Le Clos du Tue-Boeuf) or LaBoudinerie or Mon Cher from Noëlla Morantin.  Life is good with Louie’s mushrooms.  Thank you Louie!

The Foillard Connection

When I was visiting the vignerons last autumn, happy coincidences kept happening.  I was beginning to believe the universe was conspiring in my favour.  It all started when I was visiting Jean Foillard in Morgon.  As I was visiting a number of vignerons in the region, I decided to stay at the bed and breakfast of Jean Foillard for a couple of days.  By the way, if you love France and wine, not to mention the beautiful villages, I strongly recommend Jean Foillard’s B&B.

 An Autumn Scene Steps from Jean Foillard's Domain

Back to the story…Well, Monsieur Foillard asked if I wanted to join the family for a lunch.  Oui!  In the middle of having a delicious lunch that Madame Foillard prepared for us, Monsieur Foillard stood-up, disappeared and returned with a bottle of white wine, declaring that the meal begs for a glass of white.  There was already a bottle of Côte du Py on the table.  I barely kissed my lips on the Côte du Py that Monsieur Foillard poured for me to taste enjoy.  The bottle of white was no other than Thierry and Jean-Marie Puzelat Le Clos du Tue-Boeuf Pinot Gris.  Crisp, minerally and delicious.  There were now two glasses of generous pours in front of meal.   BLISS CONSCIOUSNESS!  I chuckled and informed Monsieur Foillard that I will be visiting Thierry and Jean-Marie Puzelat of Le Clos du Tue-Boeuf in a few days.  A pause, then Monsieur Foillard glanced at me in a different light.  I am not certain but I think that was the moment when Monsieur Foillard decided to give me some allocation to import. 

 The Entrance to Jean Foillard's Tasting Room. Also Used For Harvesters to Enjoy Meals

Then, I was visiting Thierry and Jean-Marie Puzelat at their Le Clos du Tue Boeuf.  During a tasting, a sample of Pinot Gris was poured.  The very cuvée that Jean Foillard had poured for me at his domain only a couple of days ago.   I chuckled and told Thierry about the Pinot Gris at Jean Foillard.  A pause, then Thierry glanced at me in a different light.  I am not certain but I think that was the moment when Thierry decided to give me some allocation to import.

With Thierry Puzelat at Le Clos du Tue-Boeuf Amongst the Vines, Surrounded by Diversity of Forests 

Then, I was visiting Jean Maupertuis.  After a tasting, I followed him to his personal cellar for a tour.  What a cellar! Well, what do I see among the wines?  Jean Foillard’s ‘PI-π’ – a wine only made in certain vintages.  I chuckled and told Jean Maupertuis that I just visited Jean Foillard the day before.  A pause, then Jean Maupertuis glanced at me in a different light.  I am not certain but I think that was the moment when Jean Maupertuis decided to give me some allocation to import.

Jean Maupertuis among the Vines at Le Guillaume Vineyard (500 m above sea level on limestone)

Then to top it off, I was visiting Noëlla Morantin.  When I arrived at her domain, she had nothing to sell.  All her bottled wines were sold out.  Generously, she had to dip into her personal stash to give me a taste.  A conversation led to many things and Noëlla asked what other vignerons I was visiting.  I told her all the names.  Apparently, Noëlla just returned from Jean Foillard.  I am not certain but I think…

 Noëlla Morantin Pouring Generously in her Beautiful Chai/Cellar