Back to Basics: Blind Chardonnay Tasting

 

This blog is ostensably about wine, and my passion is wine, but let's face it, I've been a bit neglectful in talking about it lately. So let's get back to basics: a blind Chardonnay tasting.

When this was first proposed, I was excited. First, I love good Chardonnay, espcially from Burgundy (duh). Second, it's always fun, and humbling, to attend a blind tasting. All pre-suppositions about labels, place, year, quality or price go out the window. You are judging the wine based on its merits alone. Granted, the organizer must ensure that all the wines coming are equally ready to drink, or are placed in similar flights. Otherwise you might end up with some bottles that are completely closed for business while others shout out for attention, drowning out all the others. This drinking business can get complicated, no?

So a small group of winelovers descended on Apiary in the East Village, Chef Scott Bryan's new project. First, let me just say the food and service were fantastic and I heartily recommend it (no affilition, yadda yadda yadda...).

 

More importantly, the tasting was quite interesting and eye-opening. It would be interesting to see if we could pick out the New World from the Old World styles, something I heartily anticipated doing.

FLIGHT 1
-#1
Creamy lemon, perfumy oak on the nose, but more citrus than wood. The body is fat, with some spicy oakiness to it that's balanced and even lifted by some striking acidity. Everyone said Burgundy, I decided to be contrarian and say a 10-year old CA Chard. I was almost right! Woohoo!
1997 Calera Mt Harlan Chardonnay

-#2
Lemony butterscotch, some caramel, mushroomy with sweet oxydative notes on the nose. Ugh, sour lemony popcorn aspects on the palate, this was shot. Too bad, this could have been amazing. We all said mid-/late-1990s white Burg. Duh.
1996 Niellon Chassagne Montrachet Clos de la Truffiere

-#3
Ripe lemony popcorn wrapped in a layer of vanilla oak, the palate was sweet and somewhat fat with a spicy, buttery note to it that ended with a slightly bitter finish. Everyone voted CA.
2000 Pahlmeyere Jason

FLIGHT 2
-#4
Ugh, caramelized apples and not much more anywhere, neither on the nose or palate. I wrote "Undrinkable", and we all guessed another mid-1990s white Burg.
1995 Ramonet Batard-Montrachet Argh!

-#5
Right off the bat, this reminded me of those CostCo apple pies you see warming in the Bakery section. Not a bad thing, as it offers some nice apple compote and cinnamon aspects, with some hints of oxydation and orange marmalade notes. The palate was slightly fat, with nutty and lemony honey tastes, ending in a surprisingly sour finish. We were all over the map on this one, especially as the bottle shape made us think New World (most said CA, I decided to be a prick and say Australia). We were all wrong.
1991 Gravner Chardonnay

-#6
At first, this had some weird, but not unlikable minty/vegetal notes, which made me think Ramonet and white Burgundy. But the green started to dissipate, replaced by an almost petrolly smell, wrapping itself around a quartz and lemon core. In the mouth, this was medium-bodied and certainly tasted better than it smelled, with honeyed lemon, striking minerality and a nice, medium, well-balanced finish. We all said white Burg.
1992 Lafon Meursault Genevriere

FLIGHT 3
-#7
Orange zest, petrol, nuts and hints of oxydation on the nose, with a spicy, medium-weight frame offering hints of tea, lemon, nuts and ending in a long finish. Another vote for white Burg.
2000 Maltroye Batard Montrachet

-#8
Right off the bat, we could see this was a lighter-bodied wine, as it didn't pour as viscously as the others in the flight. It also smelled lighter, with fresh pineapple, steely lemon cream and light nuts (almonds?). The palate followed through with a similar (relatively) lighter feel, ending in a medium-length finish. Nice, but not in the same league as the others. Votes were all over the place, I said Chassagne Montrachet. Close but no go.
2002 Louis Latour Puligny Montrachet

-#9
Oooh, this smells nice, with minty lemons, almonds, hints of minerals like quartz on the nose. Its feel is nice too, with a medium, balanced body offering more minerals, lemony almonds, and a long, spicy finish. This HAS to be white Burgundy, and I voted as such. Whoops. Surprise of the night!
2005 Dierberg Santa Maria

FLIGHT 4
-#10
The nose is full of fat, ripe lemony almonds, Granny Smith apples, and a certain, lovely musky note. On the palate, this is lovely, even if a bit fat, with lemon and spices and almonds all balanced out by a beautiful, fresh acidity. Another vote for white Burgundy. Again, whoops.
2002 Aubert Richie

-#11
CORKED. DAMNIT.
2001 Lafon Meursault Charmes

-#12
ALSO CORKED. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
2007 Seven Springs la Source (a Lafon project in Oregon I believe)

FLIGHT 5
-#13
Whoa, this has GOT to be CA: dry almonds, minerals, perfumy oak, ripe lemons on the nose, with similar aspects carried through on the fat, ripe structure, but ending in a surprisingly short finish. Somewhat unbalanced, not to my liking, though I can see why others would enjoy it.
2001 Kistler Cathleen

-#14
Oxydated, nothing but burnt nuts and caramelized apples. Ugh.
2001 Peter Michael Pointe Rouge

-#15
Oooooh, this smells nice, what is it? Lovely herbal mint notes wrapped around a core of minerally lemons, carried through on a steely, elegant frame. The mouthfeel is just as lovely as the nose, with a laser-like precision that lifts flavors of spicy almonds, more fresh mint, and minerally lemons (think those crystallized lemons), with an understated power and elegance that is almost shockingly refreshing. The finish goes on and on and on and on. Quite nice, and we all said white Burgundy.
2001 Ramonet Chevalier Montrachet

FLIGHT 6
-#16
Ripe, honeyed lemons and almonds wrapped themselves around some nice minerals on the nose of this one. In the mouth, it was medium-weighted, with some spicy notes to it and a relatively short finish. I think we all voted CA.
2003 Marcassin Estate

-#17
Very similar aspects to the previous wine, with similarly ripe and honeyed lemons and spices, though the palate was a tad fresher and had better lift from some more acidity and more minerality. I voted white Burg.
2003 Coche Dury Meursault Caillerets

-#18 (not blind) 1979 Chateau Latour
Yep, a red, and a Bordeaux at that, generously offered by a friend of Bob's. Popped and poured, this really should have been decanted a bit, but it was rather nice and reminded me why I used to like Bordeaux so much. Notes of band-aid, funk, dark plums/cherries and soft wood aspects held your attention. The palate was light, with some sweet red fruit still fighting for survival (storage might have been an issue, we weren't sure), herbs, and a nice, balanced finish. Not bad, and a welcome reprieve from all the whites.

POST-DINNER DRINKS
Because 17 bottles of white and 1 bottle of red weren't enough, a few friends joined me for a stumble through the East Village to one of my favorite haunts, Pata Negra. Since we apparently hadn't eaten enough, either, we ordered a plate of the legendary Pata Negra ham, and while that melted on our tongues, we drank a Rose Txakoli.

 

-2008 Rose Txakoli (name forgotten in the mists of hangover)
Gorgeous color, with flower red berry notes, and just a hint of spritz to tickle your nose. Very light-bodied, this perked up the palate with lively acidity and fresh berries and flowers on the tongue. A great way to end the night, I might add, as the fruit was just ever-so-slightly sweet.

Conclusions: We thought it would be easier to pick out the New World from the Old World, but it turned out to be harder than anticipated. I might add, however, that while we did have most of the best of the best of CA, we didn't really have the best of the best of Burgundy. No Montrachet, only one Chevalier, and the Batards were undrinkably oxydized. WOTN for most was the Aubert, followed closely by the Ramonet Chevy.

Still, it was a fun evening, and a big thanks to all who made it and donated so generously from their cellars.
Cheers!

A Night in Macon

The town of Pouilly Fuissé
I left Avignon for Macon, in southern Burgundy, with a heavy heart and a somewhat heavier head (more like a pounding head to be honest). My winemaker, Didier Tripoz, of Domaine Cathérine et Didier Tripoz, picked me up at the tiny train station. I represent their monopole wine, the Clos des Tournons, a walled enclave of old vines (between 30 and 65 years of age). This makes for a lovely, unoaked and full-flavored yet light on its feet Chardonnay that is just making its appearance in the US.

The moment I saw the vine-covered hillsides, I knew I was home: Burgundy! Even though I was an hour south of Beaune, the regional capital, it felt like I was back where I belonged. The vines’ leaves were turning yellowish with the changing of the seasons, making for a beautiful undulating golden carpet. Absolutely glorious.

A rocky spur overlooking vineyards
We dropped my stuff off at the crappy hotel I was staying in (never, ever, ever, stay in a Balladins motel, it’s downright scary: the bathroom was a solid piece of plastic, so I could take a shower while taking care of business while brushing my teeth – a nightmare of efficiency taken to the extreme), then proceeded to head right into the vineyards. Didier drove us through a beautiful vista of steeply rolling hills covered in those golden leaves, with rocky outcroppings popping up at odd intervals, all lined by centuries-, if not often millennia-old, stone walls. God I love this part of the world. There really is something magical about this region, something timeless that just really stirs the soul.

Didier challenges me to a race up the hill
We visited a new plot that Didier had just bought in the Pouilly Fuissé appelation, angled so steeply that going up was a chore but coming down was an adventure. I swear, this thing must have been at a 45° slope! There, we were joined by his assistant winemaker David, who had helped out with this year’s harvest. After stints in New Zealand and several other wineries, David has settled in as Didier’s helper going forward. He’s really ambitious and eager to increase the quality of the wines, which is always a good thing.

Looking up the slope

Looking down the slope

Lost in a sea of Chardonnay
After driving around the perimeter of the Clos des Tournons , we came to the winery, which is basically an addition to the house’s garage. We began tasting the 2008s from tanks, and I was thrilled to see that this year's Clos des Tournons would be another success, with beautiful fruit backed up by almost stinging acidity and a lovely, rich mouthfeel. We also tasted the Pouilly Fuissé, which holds much promise as well. We made our way through all the wines, from Chardonnay to Pinot Noir as well as Gamay (the grape used in Beaujolais but used here to make red Macon, very rare). Quite nice if I may say so myself.

Didier pours from the tank
After the winery visit, we retreated to the tasting room, where some 2007s were opened for my perusal. I was pleased to see that Didier hasn’t lost his touch, his wines were just as beautiful as I recalled. Then, as his wife Cathérine announced that dinner would be ready soon, he poured me something else, something intriguing, something quite surprising. “This is for our aperitif,” he explained.

Now, I’m a sucker for Champagne, I just love the stuff. I am not a fan of Crémants or other bubbly wines, in general. So I was wary about this.

The wine he was pouring looked like Champagne, a golden liquid with surprisingly tiny, elegant bubbles, it smelled like a Blanc de Blancs, on the palate it was richer, with bracing acidity, yet it wasn’t Champagne: it was his Crémant de Bourgogne. I almost fell off my chair. This was stunning. This was amazing. This was unbelievably delicious.

Using the traditional Méthode Champenoise, Didier makes a sparkling wine from Chardonnay without adding back the liqueur d’expedition, or the base wine plus sugar that most sparkling makers add back to make the wine richer and balance its high acidity. In this case, he doesn’t add it back because, being further south than Champagne, his grapes achieve a higher level of ripeness: in other words, they don’t need the sugar, some of theirs survives the first fermentation.

The result is unbelievable, at least for a Crémant. This is something I’ll be happy to show to my clients very soon.

Dinner was a long, leisurely affair with Didier, Cathérine, their son and David. We laughed a lot and chatted about the upcoming elections (I swear the French were more obsessed with it than we were). Finally, I retired to my crappy motel and tried, unsuccessfully, to fall asleep.

I had an early morning TGV to catch: I was heading to Paris. Yay!

Next: A week in Paris.
Cheers!

Falling in Love Again (yes, Burgundy)

The Village of Vosne-Romanée
OK, enough with my shilling the wines I represent, what about the stuff I only drink on special occasions? What about those once a year splurges where you don't look at the prices and just let your knowledge and love of a particular wine region guide you? Nights where you just say "screw it" and let your palate, heart and soul lead the way? Has that ever happened to you?

It happened to me the other night.

I've been drinking lots of Rhônes for the past few weeks, as various Rhônophiles passed through town. While I enjoy a good Châteauneuf or Cornas as much as the next person, my first love remains Burgundy. And for a while there I was cheating on her, though I could hear her swan song in the distance, haunting me from the back of my head, beckoning me to come back to her.

So the other night I gave in to temptation and joined a good friend at a neighborhood place, where we ordered two beauties that reminded me why I love Burgundy so much. The food was amazing, the service fantastic, but the wines... aaaaah... the wines...

-2000 Henri Boillot Meursault 1er Cru Perrieres
On first wiff, I knew this Chardonnay would be lovely even though it was shy and reticent. Slowly, it unfolded, revealing layers of flavors and depths of complexity that made us swoon. Beautiful lemon, almond skins, soft hazelnuts, green apples wrapped around a stony, minerally core that ended with some lovely acidity in an elegant package, on a slightly oily frame that went on and on. As it warmed up we picked up a hint, and I do mean a hint, of oxydation, but at this level it added complexity rather than distracting from the wine.


-2000 Domaine de la Romanée Conti Richebourg
Oh. My. I need a moment.

Wow. this was just wow. And will be wow for years, if not decades. Right from the moment we first smelled it, this wine made me smile. Bright, fresh Pinot fruits overwhelmed the senses but in an elegant manner, with the barest hints of oak adding to the weightless presence on the palate. This is a wine that fills every nook and cranny of your mouth and doesn't let go, leaving behind that haunting memory that good Burgundy can. Finesse, elegance and power all wrapped up on a silky structure with well-integrated tannins, and with a finish that goes on and on and on...

It's good to back, my love.
Cheers!

La Paulée (in Colorado)- Day One

La what???

La Paulée (pronounced Paul-ay) is the festival in Burgundy that marks the end of the harvest. For three days, winemakers party their exhausted butts off. This being France, there is an inordinate amount of wine drinking, cigarette smoking, and other assorted depravities.

This festival now also takes place in New York and San Francisco, where it is an excuse for collectors to bring out their best wines. The ensuing Bacchanalia would make even the most ardent hedonist blush. In any case, this past year, due to a skiing accident, a good friend in Colorado had to skip La Paulée de SF. Instead, he decided to hold a mid-summer Paulée at his home outside Denver.


So about 15 invitees swooped in from all over the country to taste through a boatload of Burgundies. We really were in God's country, the views were stunning, the air crisp and dry as opposed to the oppressive and heavy heat in NYC.


The first night we tasted through a selection of wines from the vaunted Chevalier-Montrachet vineyard. This very small Grand Cru vineyard has only about 18 acres under vine and is located in the town of Puligny-Montrachet. It makes gorgeous Chardonnays in the right winemaker's hands. However, there are only about 20 producers currently making Chevalier Montrachets, so it's tough to find sometimes. A well-made Chevalier will have a distinct spiciness, more than likely due to the stoniness of the vineyard. You find more finesse than power here, an elegance that is difficult to find anywhere else. These aren't your average Chards, that's for sure.


Here is what we tasted, with my impressions alongside:

Flight 1

* 2004 Vincent Girardin Chevalier-Montrachet-
Wow, gorgeous purity.

* 2002 Vincent Girardin Chevalier-Montrachet-
Delicious, rounder, more accessible, softer than the 2004.

* 2002 Henri Boillot Chevalier-Montrachet-
Beautiful, enormous power and concentration balanced by acidity and finesse.

* 2001 Domaine Ramonet Chevalier-Montrachet-
Somewhat oxydized, but Ramonet's signature spearmint aromas managed to break through (I have no idea why, but his wines have a slight hint of spearmint to their aromas).

Flight 2

* 1999 Etienne Sauzet Chevalier-Montrachet-
Unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable, this kept getting better and more nuanced as it breathed over the course of the evening.

* 1995 Louis Jadot Chevalier-Montrachet Les Demoiselles-
Oxydized.

* 1995 Georges Deleger Chevalier-Montrachet-
Horribly oxydized.


Flight 3

* 1993 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier-Montrachet-
Very good.

* 1993 Domaine d'Auvenay (Lalou Bize-Leroy) Chevalier-Montrachet-
Unfreakingbelievable. Seriously. This proves God exists. You could chew this wine (that's a good thing, trust me).

* 1992 Verget Chevalier-Montrachet-
Delicious, but hard to taste after the 1993 D'Auvenay.

Flight 4

* 1985 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier-Montrachet-
Quite good.

* 1978 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier-Montrachet-
After an inital funk blew off in the decanter, this was quite good and honeyed.

* 1982 Louis Jadot Chevalier-Montrachet Les Demoiselles-
Corked.


Now we moved onto the other wines for the post-tasting dinner.

Flight 5

* 1985 Moët & Chandon Champagne Cuvée Dom Pérignon-
AWESOME, just absolutely awesome, a wine to let sit and breathe. This was, sadly, my last bottle, but we enjoyed it a lot. It was a fantastic match for a mushroom bisque, I might add.

* 1990 Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin Champagne Brut La Grande Dame-
Another delicious wine, this wasn't nearly as complex as the DP.

* 1996 Saint-Chamant Christian Coquillette Champagne Brut-
Fun to try, more yeasty and toasty than anything else, but not bad. Not great though, and definitely not in the league of the others.

Flight 6

* 2005 Louis Jadot Bonnes Mares-
Very extracted, almost CA Pinot-like. Not to my tastes.

Flight 7

* 1999 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Richebourg
Wow. Absolutely wow. I get it now. I let this wine breathe for a while and it kept unfolding and opening up, a real wine for the ages and yet more proof that God exists. Wow.

* 1993 Domaine A.-F. Gros Richebourg-
Excellent also.

* 1971 Charles Vienot Richebourg-
Delicious too, it belied its age with a surprising youthful energy.

Flight 8

* 1990 Frederic Esmonin Ruchottes-Chambertin
Nice and ripe.

* 1990 Domaine Robert Chevillon Nuits St. Georges 1er Cru Les Vaucrains
Fun to drink.

* 1993 Dominique Laurent Mazis-Chambertin
Surprisingly good, as I usually don't like Dominique Laurent's wines, he tends to go overboard with the oak.

Flight 9

* 1993 Domaine Méo-Camuzet Vosne-Romanée 1er Cru Aux Brulees-
CORKED. Argh!

* 1993 Louis Jadot Bonnes Mares-
So so, not great, not bad, but should have been better.

* 1993 Domaine Jacques-Frederic Mugnier Musigny-
Not bad, but not nearly as good as it should have been. Freddy's one of my favorite producers. Sigh.

Flight 10

* 1972 Hospices de Beaune Beaune 1er Cru Cuvée Nicolas Rolin Bouchard Père et Fils-
Served from mag, this also belied its age with a youthful vigor. Delicious if a bit simple.

* 1972 Maison Leroy Gevrey-Chambertin 1er Cru Champeaux-
Really good. Fruit was interesting and strong. Expressive in a unique way.

* 1964 Gros Frere et Sœur Clos Vougeot "Musigni"-
Ooooh, delicious, still very much alive and proof that old Burgundy rocks.

* 1969 Jaffelin Chambertin-
Blah, not much going on.


We ended the evening around midnight with some stinky cheeses and a 1970 Grahams that was quite good too. But after all that Burgundy, it was tough going to Portugal. What a day it had been, and we were looking forward to Day Two and its Grand Tasting...
Cheers!

The Harvest

To most folks, the harvest is an ephemereal, romantic idea, a time of the year when leaves start to turn orange, the weather cools, and the vintners pick their grapes. In their minds, the grapes are tread by foot by happy workers stained red and singing La Marseilleise while eating baguettes and paté. Outside, women make the lunch while a musician plays the accordion and dogs and chickens run free through the farmhouse. Everyone's happy, everyone's got a bottle of wine in their hands, and everyone's dancing.

Right?

Well, not quite. Even in the smallest wineries, harvest is a maddening affair. It is a time when the vintner tries to ensure that everything goes right. He has spent the past year preparing for it, maintaining his machines, seeing to the health of the vineyards, and shooing pesky animals looking for a quick snack. As harvest approaches, things pick up speed, until the time the grapes are deemed ripe enough to pick. Then it becomes a race to get as many of the grapes as possible, before rainy weather/hot weather/strikes/labor shortages/migrating birds/random acts of God intervene and render the grapes useless. And it doesn't end in the vineyard. To make the best wines, grapes have to sorted (all sorts of nasties like rotten grapes, leaves, lizards and spiders must be removed) before being crushed and sent to the fermentation tanks. Even after all the prep work, Nature has a way of throwing a curve and destroying a crop-load of grapes, endangering the farmer's livelihood. So many thing can go wrong at any given time that it's remarkable that anyone would willingly underake such a risky (and nowadays, expensive) task. For those who do it right, it truly is a work of love and passion.

In 2006, I had the honor of working the harvest in my beloved Burgundy, for one of the largest and well-regarded wineries in the area, Bouchard Père et Fils. I followed the harvest from start to finish, and even got a chance to work with the pickers one sunny Wednesday morning, in the legendary Montrachet vineyard.

To help you get an idea of what it's like to be a picker, I am reposting this tale:

Chardonnay hanging in Le Montrachet vineyard

Wednesday, September 20th was, as I was starting to say on a daily basis, another beautiful day in Burgundy. The weather forecast was for temperatures between 11° and 23°C, with clear skies interspersed with clouds.

But, to be honest, at the hour at which I woke up, I couldn’t have cared less about any forecasts. I was supposed to start picking in the Montrachet vineyard, and I could barely sleep I was so nervous in anticipation. I woke up around 5am, my stomach in knots. Looking out the window, it was pitch black, with just some hints of the approaching dawn. I ran down to the local boulangerie and picked up a croissant for my breakfast, then headed to Beaune’s train station. There I’d meet up with the pickers and the buses. The sun was rising by now, stunning gold and red colors filling the eastern horizon.

At the station’s brasserie, people were standing at the bar, drinking their espressos, and, in some cases, glasses of wine (sorry, no tasting notes). Smoke drifted through the place, as I suppose it should in France. People were in generally good cheer despite the hour and the cool, crisp air. Folks were bantering about, and some locals seemed surprised that Bouchard was starting the harvest already. I followed a group to the station’s parking lot, where several large tourist buses were awaiting the grape-pickers. There I met up with Christophe Bouchard, who handed me to a Chef d’Equipe named Nicolas. He would be my guide in the field.

I was surprised at how cheery the people in the bus were. Considering the hour at which most had woken up, they must have consumed prodigious amounts of coffee and cigarettes to be this wired. There were thin layers of morning mist in the hollows, and the sun was a fantastic ball of fire. Another beautiful day in Burgundy. The bus rolled down the N74 to the village of Puligny-Montrachet, where we took a turn and headed up the hill. Picking teams were already in the fields in some plots, indicating that other domaines were starting as well. Halfway up the hill, a small road paralled the N74, with an old stone wall on both sides. Vines stretched around as far as the eye could see. Our destination was upslope from the road.

Wow. Le Montrachet.

The bus stopped and Nicolas stood up front and told people to watch their work today, they were picking Montrachet and at 300 Euros a bottle they shouldn’t leave a grape behind. Everyone joked that perhaps they’d get a few bottles when the work was done. Really? That would be great! Then we filed out of the bus, where a pail full of sécateurs awaited us. Everyone grabbed one, then took a plastic bin and headed into the vineyard.

I was thrown right into the mix, with just a quick introduction as to how to cut the grapes. Luckily there were old hands supervising our teams and they showed me what I was doing wrong (lots!). Always cut the stem, never the wood, yank the leaves out of the way, cut the bunches hanging between the bottom and the third wire. The higher bunches are usually the least ripe, with some verjus grapes.

The grapes were large and tightly clustered, and tasted slightly sweet with a hint of white flowers. I crouched down and started clipping, grabbing bunches of big, juicy white grapes. Immediately, I learned a few things.

A picker in Le Montrachet

Leaves are my enemy.

They tease me with hints of the hidden treasure, ensnaring my hands in their vines, making me lose track of my fingers’ whereabouts, refusing to pull away the way I want them to. I grasp at them with hands wet from grape juice, the morning dew, mud and the blood from a clipped pinky (if anyone finds a fingertip in their 2006 Montrachet, please send it back to me). Grapes burst in my hands as I toss them into the bin, my sécateur quickly slick yet sticky from juice. Dirt covers my shoes, digs under my nails, somehow gets into my eyes, there’s a fine layer of moist dust on everything within a few minutes of starting. I am falling behind, but when I look around I’m as fast as the slowest ones.

I LOVE IT.

Suddenly my movements become more fluid, more natural, my arm snaking its way between the hated leaf, the wire and the bunch’s stem. Clip, clip, two bunches in my hand, throw them in the bin, shuffle forward either squatting or bending over. Repeat. Hey, I’ve got the hang of this!

I LOVE IT.

I’m doing great! Nope, I’m almost as slow as ever. Damn, here I thought I was nailing it. The first pickers to finish their rows hang out at the top, smoking and lazing in the morning sun, mocking the rest of us. I’m quickly spotted as a neophyte, though my black shoes (not sneakers, big mistake) are maybe the give-away. That and my speed…or lack thereof. I try to chat with my neighbors, but they quickly outpace me. People call for empty bins. They’ve filled theirs already??? Shit, mine’s only half full.

My body starts complaining at all this work. Are you kidding? Have you seen the old ladies with missing teeth, the retirees with beer bellies, the guy in midlife crisis, heck the eighteen year old girls (well, them, yes, I may be engaged but I’m not dead)? My body starts wondering what it’s done to deserve this sudden abuse. Deal with it, I tell it, we work out (sometimes) for a reason, right? Ignore the dinners of escargots, foie gras, boeuf Charolais and mushrooms. Forget the Poulets de Bresse, the almond croissants, the assiettes de charcuterie.

How do you forget it when it’s there to remind you every second that you’re crouching in the stony dirt? Mocking you like an evil guardian angel, not on your shoulder but sitting on your waist?

Wow, I’m picking Montrachet, but to me it’s nothing but hidden treasure I need to cut from its home. We’re constantly reminded that this wine costs 300 Euros a bottle. Are we getting any? Are there bottles of older Monty lined up at the top as enticement? No, not even water. Damn, I’m thirsty. And sweaty. And, judging from the flies attracted to me, stinky. A Frenchman once told me that to smell like you just made love was a good thing. I am redefining “a good thing”.

I LOVE IT.

Wow, is it a tough job to manually pick the grapes. I have an enormous amount of respect for those that do, and who do it in general good cheer (though by their own admission, the weather helped a LOT). Their ages ranged from the eighteen-year old girls to the ladies who’d been doing it for over 20 years, and from students to retirees. Everyone flirts, jokes around and generally tries to take their mind off the work. The Chefs d’Equipes cajole, joke and push the pickers to do well and not take too many breaks, especially smoke breaks. So lots of folks are clipping with a half-smoked cigarette sticking out the sides of their mouths. Despite the back-breaking, foot-numbing, eye-gouging, finger-cutting work, folks seemed in good spirits. Complaints were good-natured unless something serious happened.

After several hours, when I have to leave, I am sore, tired but also a bit sad. I’ve grown fond of my little team, their spirit and courage has kept me going. I feel as if I’m abandoning them, leaving them to toil and broil in the mid-day sun. I know that while the work is fast and furious in the morning, it will slow down a bit as the day heats up and people get tired. So I head down the hill and clamber into a truck taking my grapes to the winery.

My driver, Denis Chantin, is also a winemaker in the Hautes Côtes de Beaune. With a constant smile on his face, he was a great guy to chat with as we made our way down the Montrachet hill to the winery on the outskirts of Savigny. At the winery I was met by Patrice Preney (Chef de Laboratoire) and Hugues Massu (Chef Comptable – Head of Accounting). Hugues explained that Bouchard asks all its employees, even the office workers, to participate in the harvest. It allows for a better understanding of what goes on and builds a sense of team spirit. He did seem rather happy to be out of the office and in the clean, sun-filled air.

Tasting first-press Chardonnay

The grapes were processed almost as soon as they arrived. Sorting tables quickly picked through them, though as the Chardonnay this year has been in excellent health there was very little to remove. From there they went straight to the pneumatic press, which operated at different levels of pressure to get different effects. This first juice tasted of slightly sour apple juice, with a grainy feel to it. That would be the fine dirt and other things that had collected on the skins of the grapes. Another press that was running had juice collecting at the bottom, so Patrice Preney let me taste that as well. It was a bit sweeter and rounder, with a smoother mouthfeel. Finally, depending on the health of the vintage, SO2 was added. This year not much was added as the grapes came in very healthy.

It was interesting to see how clean the winery was kept. There were people constantly cleaning, scrubbing, mopping and generally trying to maintain a relatively sanitary condition. Safety was also a key point, Hugues stressed, pointing to the CO2 alarms and the harness that the guy who rakes the grapes in the press has to wear. He said that Bouchard has all winery workers go through a safety regimen before the harvest, and everyone is constantly reminded to be careful.

And I can understand why. Folks are stressed and on edge, even in a good vintage. They have a ton of work to do and a very short amount of time to do it. By now I was pooped, my feet hurt, my back was killing me, and my pinky smarted. I went back to Beaune and was so tired that I didn’t eat (though I did have a half-bottle of something or other).

So there you have it. Sounds fun, eh?

Pictures from that trip can be found HERE, no need to sign in, just click on the first photo.

Cheers!