We spent last Friday morning in the Beaujolais. It’s a charming region — really a 30 mile vineyard punctuated by a handful of villages. The region’s most widely distributed wine is an inexpensive and insipid red that’s rushed to market several weeks after the harvest. But as connoisseurs have known for years, there’s far more to Beaujolais than meets the eye.
Coffee, baguettes, and Beurre d’Isigny this morning — strikes and lunch breaks notwithstanding, there’s something civilized about a country with a protected AOC for butter.
Hautes-Côtes de Nuits, Gevrey-Chambertin, Vosne-Romanée, Beaune | 6.13.16
Chablis has had a rough year so far. With hailstorms and late frosts devastating the region this spring, our conversations during yesterday’s tastings all turned to the cruel whims of Mother Nature. It would have been an entirely depressing visit had it not been for the two most recent, truly excellent vintages already in the cellars.
This morning, after buttery croissants and homemade Stumptown coffee brewed through an Aeropress and enjoyed on the sunny veranda of our apartment, we drove to Chablis. It’s about an hour and a half to the north — an hour on the highway, and a half on the small, straight country roads of northern Burgundy.
Chablis, Beaune | 6.11.16
Up early again today for our trip south — it’s about an hour drive to the Beaujolais, and the region greeted us with sunny skies, a pleasant breeze and an impressive morning of discovery.
Beaujolais, Chalonnaise, Macconais, Beaune | 6.10.16
Other than the rock-covered fields of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the vertiginous hillsides of the Côte Rôtie might seem the last place in the world to grow vines. With slopes reaching 60 degrees in places, all field work — planting, pruning, treating, harvesting — must be done entirely by hand. As we walked through the vines yesterday we again wondered aloud what could make this all worth it.
Crozes-Hermitage, Saint-Joseph, Côte Rôtie, Beaune | 6.9.16
Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Tain l’Hermitage | 6.8.16
Our final morning in the South greeted us with perfect azure skies and a stiff breeze. After coffee and emails in the courtyard, we departed the house for our first visit. The first domaine sits on a hill at the eastern edge of the appellation, and by the time we reached the chateau the wind had become noticeable and steady. The winemaker smiled as she greeted us; “a petit mistral this morning,” she said, crediting the wind with keeping their grapes healthy and mold-free all year long.
Perhaps no wines in our portfolio more perfectly express their origin than those of the Mas Foulaquier. Our visit yesterday reminded us just how special this place is. Guided by a fervent belief in biodynamics, these vignerons have set their domaine in a old stone farmhouse on a sunny, idyllic hillside in Southern France.
Pic-St-Loup, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Séguret, Gigondas | 6.7.16