Loire & More

The Chateau in Angers (in warmer times)

I've been swamped with work since I got back from France in late February, so this post is a tad late.  Apologies, as usual, and all that.  In any case, the rest of the trip went smashingly well.  Aside from a super nasty bug that sidelined me for most of the Loire shows (no Dive this year, sniff sniff), my time in France was super productive (and delicious!).

While in Angers (a beautiful city, I might add), I met up with Jean-Pascal Aubron, our Muscadet producer, who says Bonjour!, as well as Pascal Pibaleau (he was just everywhere this year).  I retasted Pascal's INSANELY good 2012 Gamay, from vines planted in 1964, which underwent 18 days of carbonic maceration (he likes to take things low and slow, looking for depth and quality, not a quicky wham bam thank you Ma'am).  Guess what, Gamay's arriving in late June/early July, so get your palates ready!

Catherine & Didier Tripoz getting all impish

There were some amazingly good meals, some great wines as usual, and visits to producers in Champange and Burgundy (sadly, nothing new from the Cotes de Nuits to report yet, but I keep trying!).  While in Burgundy, I did manage to revisit Catherine & Didier Tripoz, who make our lovely Macon Charnay Clos des Tournons.  The 9 ha walled-in plot is composed of 12 parcels of varying ages, and boy did we get geeky: we tasted each one and it was fascinating to see what they did even when handled in the same manner.  Didier hand-picks each parcel and vinifies each separately since they're differing ages.  Each one offers something unique, so Didier assembles them only once they've done their own fermentations (in steel and cement tanks - no oak here!).

After a short relaxing stay in Paris, it was back to NYC and back to the grind (or I guess the press in this case).  Our business has exploded in the past 24 months, so it was time to tend to things.  I'd have much preferred staying in the vineyards of Europe, but alas someone has to import and sell them here.  And that someone is me (well, I'm one of the someones doing it, but you get the idea). But I still LOVE this job, even if it's super difficult somedays.

Things have gotten crazy.  As of June 2013 we're in 11 states, and pushing hard to grow.  New Orleans has been one of our biggest surprises and biggest markets, we're working with an amazingly awesome team call Uncorked.  Great people, great food, great fun every time I've been down there.  Vermont is also turning into a nice change of pace, and Maine has begun picking up.  It's been a tough slog, there's a lot of competition (especially in NY, it seems like a new importer/distributor is popping up every day - I know of some stores dealing with 65 wholesalers), but the US is thirsty for more.

Which brings me to the next news: we've picked up some great new producers, so look for some new labels in Fall.  One of them is a small Biodynamic producer from the Gaillac region of Southwest France, northeast of Toulouse.  You'll meet Nicolas Lebrun doing some crazy work in his fields, working with indigenous grapes like Duras, Braucol (Fer Servadou), Loin de l'Oeil (white) and Prunelart.  The wines are big and dark and velvety but beautifully balanced with sparkling minerality and long long finishes.  I had a bottle of his basic Gourmand Sec Rouge (Duras, Braucol) that took 7 days before it faded.  This stuff ROCKS.

Look for this label in Fall, coming to a store near you (hopefully!)

Best of all, I am pretty sure this will retail around $16-17, and will be perfect for the cooler weather or BBQs in summer 2014.  I am so excited about his wines it's not even funny.  And I'm getting just as excited for our other new wine, as we're branching out from France and Spain to... Italy!  Ciao Italia!  We found a lovely small farmer Organic Chianti, which again should retail under $20.  More details to come, but we keep looking for new small Organic or Biodynamic producers to import and get to a store near you.

Frankly I haven't been this energized in a while, and planning for Fall and the future is taking up all my time.  If you can't tell, I am really jazzed for what's to come.  Heck, we even hired a COO (granted, I'm cheating a tad, it's my wife, but she is quite the slave driver), as well as a part-time salesperson for the NY market.  AND we're talking to another salesperson.  I guess it's a testament to the quality of our wines that folks are coming to me and asking to rep our wines.

Which is why I've let this blog slide a bit, shamefully.  Once again, I apologize.  Next time you see me, feel free to berate me and if I have an open bottle I'll pour you an extra-large glass of wine.  I promise to do to a better job at this.  Plus I forgot how much I loved writing, though there's no telling if you enjoy reading this.

In any case, more to come, soon...
Cheers!

A Day in Muscadet

Aaaaah, the glamours of the wine business… After 8 hours in the air in a cramped tin can and a mad dash to the Montparnasse train station in Paris for my TGV, I finally made it to Nantes, near France’s Atlantic Coast. Luckily, I had taken into account the probabilities that we’d be delayed leaving NYC considering the current sorry state of flying in the US (high), and the chances of a strike occurring anywhere, anytime in France (ridiculously high). As it was, I barely missed the train, and having found my seat, I also discovered that I would remain caffeine- and food-free: the bar-car workers were on strike. Of course they were.

In any case, I was met at Nantes’ train station by Jean-Pascal Aubron, who’s Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine sur Lie I represent. The moment I sat in his car, I smiled: it smelled like wine, and that aroma lingered around Jean-Pascal as well. He gave me a quick tour of the city (quite pretty), then we headed out to Vallet (the ‘t’, usually silent, is pronounced in the regional dialect, apparently), a small town which houses about 10% of France’s Muscadet producers.

The winery
As in many other parts of the Loire Valley, the vineyards are very flat, with outcroppings of trees or villages to punctuate the landscape. It looked like a mottled yellow carpet, the Melon de Bourgogne vines’ leaves were all turning yellow with the cooler temperatures. Harvest had just ended, and the air had that unmistakable “winey” smell that all wine regions get when fermentation starts. I love that scent.

That night, I sat down for a tasting and dinner with Jean-Pascal and his wife. I was pleasantly surprised when Jean-Pascal generously brought out some older bottles of his Grand Fief de l’Audigère, as I had very little experience with older Muscadets. While it’s not enclosed or otherwise visibly demarcated, this vineyard has been recognized for the quality of its wines since the 1600s. The Aubrons tend 11 hectares (about 27.19 acres), and their family has been making wine in the area since the mid-19th century. While we tasted we munched on some lovely rillettes de thon maison (shredded tuna paté, recipe to follow), and for dinner we enjoyed a pot-au-feu (basically a slow-cooked stew of beef cheek and shank, with locally-grown carrots so sweet I swooned and melt-in-your mouth deliciously buttery potatoes) and an unassuming but delicious Bourgueuil (a local red made from Cab Franc).

The tasting started with a deliciously fresh and aromatic 2007, something I had been showing to my clients and which was the reason for my presence here. We moved on to a 2005 Grand Fief de L’Audigère Vieilles Vignes (an old-vine selection, something he only does in good vintages, from 40 year-old vines). This took a while to open up but when it did it was stunning, with a huge perfume and a beautifully lemony and briney taste on a fat but vibrant frame, with plenty of acidity to balance out the fruit. He then poured me a 2003, a vintage I am usually not fond of in Europe due to the brutal heat and drought which burned (literally in some cases) the grapes and usually resulted in wines that lack finesse and grace. This Muscadet showed well, to my surprise, though not as well as the previous ones: fat and up-front with honeyed almonds and lemons, some cinnamon and a hint of brine, it quickly tailed off with a short finish and low acidity. Nice, but definitely not one for the ages. Yeah, it’s one my wines, but I’ll call it as I see it, and while it was good considering the climatic conditions, Jean-Pascal’s other vintages are much more to my liking and more balanced.

Now he brought out a crystal decanter with a lovely yellow-gold liquid inside. “The 1991” he murmured as he slowly poured me a glass. 1991? I didn’t know Muscadet could age that long. While 1991 was a tough year with some rot and some frost damage, he thought he had nailed it. After tasting this wine, I had to agree with him. The color was remarkably youthful, and the nose was gorgeous, with a hint of oxidation (in a good way), ripe lemons, nuts, herbs, minerals and that lovely salt-of-the-sea aspect that Muscadet gets, with a beautiful mouth-puckering acidity and a long finish. The wine happily reminded me of a half-fermented Savagnin I had tasted in the Jura, with vibrant fruit leading to slightly oxidized secondary characteristics. This was perfect with the after-dinner cheeses.

The stainless steel fermentation tanks
The next morning we visited the vineyards and the winery. Jean-Pascal showed me how his vines are planted to a very high density (7,000 vines/hectare) and how there are several subsoils in the Grand Fief de l’Audigère. The one under his plot is composed primarily of gabbro (volcanic), resulting in a highly-perfumed, flowery wine that has a vibrant energy on a generous frame and beautiful natural acidity year-in and year-out, as I had discovered the previous evening. Talk about terroir!

Fermentation temperatures
Retracing the grapes’ steps, we made our way to the winery, where he showed me the stainless steel fermentation tanks as well as some glass-lined underground concrete tanks. That was new to me, as the only other concrete tanks I’d seen had been either naked (in the Rhône) or lined with epoxy (everywhere else). Two of the tanks had finished fermenting and the temperature gauges showed the differences: 13° and 14.5°C as opposed to the two which were still undergoing fermentation at 20.5° and 24°C. Usually, Jean-Pascal prefers to ferment at an average temperature of 20°C, which he feels maintains the crispness of the wine while also extracting the right amount of aromatics and flavors. The wine is left unfiltered to maintain the flavors.

Underground tank
Glass tiles on the interior wall of a tank
Then he brought out some glasses and we began tasting the 2008 Audigère that had ended fermentation. There’s nothing like tasting just-fermented Muscadet at 9am to slap you awake. Who need espresso? The wine was wild and still settling into itself, like a beautiful butterfly that is shaking the last vestiges of its cocoon off its new body. The acidity practically stripped the enamel off my teeth and left my mouth puckering. When this calms down, it will be lovely, despite the year. 2008 was a tough year, with a brutal frost in April that resulted in much lower yields (Jean-Pascal’s production is down 70% from previous years!). Still, with wise selection and careful winemaking, he feels he can make a very good wine this year. I agree, but as some of my friends happily point out, I am terribly biased.

Tapping the just-fermented Muscadet
Testing the density of the wine
Madame likes what she smells
Jean-Pascal looking happy with his 2008s
Scooping the regular Muscadet
We moved on to his regular Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine sur Lie, which was quite different, with less of the aromatic oomph or zip of the Audigère. Very good but not great. He then reached into one of the underground tanks with a metal rod and scooped up some of his small-production Chardonnay (2.5 hectares). Nice, and very typical of Loire Chards, this won’t see any malolactic fermentation to maintain its sense of place. Crisp is the keyword here.

Fishing for Chardonnay
Finally we visited his Sauvignon Blanc, an experimental and small parcel (2.34 ha). I put my nose in the glass and had to take a step back: super aromatic, with huge notes of grass and herbal gooseberry (aka cat’s pee) on a strikingly fruity lemon frame, ending with mouth-puckering, almost painful acidity. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, with an amazing presence on the palate, this wouldn’t let go even after I’d tasted. I told him if he bottled it, I’d take it all. This is some seriously delicious stuff.

Old vine Melon de Bourgogne
Afterwards, we had a lovely lunch in Nantes with some good and some bad wines (a sadly oxidized 2002 Luneau Papin Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine sur Lie Grand Fief de l’Audigère Sur Schist - he wanted to show me how the different terroirs affect the same wine). Damn. Oh well. Then it was off to Cahors for a 6-hour train ride through the countryside.

I leave you with a little video of Muscadet fermenting, taken from the top of a fermentation tank after a vertiginious climb up a rickety ladder from which I nearly flopped off of. Enjoy. Oh, and that grunt? That's me sounding surprised at how much noise and movement are involved in fermentation.



Next: a weekend in the Cahors and visiting family.
Cheers!

A New Addition to the Portfolio

I've been searching for a while for a high-quality, low-cost Muscadet that I could put my name on. Finding a good wine, from any region, that I can represent is tougher than you think. There's a lot of searching, negotiating, slurping and spitting before finding one that meets my stringent criteria (price is of course a big factor, but I also want it to be well-made). And when I do find one, there is of course the discussions as to exclusivity, are they already imported, etc... Heck, I haven't added a wine to the portfolio in months, sometimes I think I might be too stringent.

So I was really excited when I tasted a small producer's bottle of Muscadet the other day. We left this sample open for hours and it kept getting better and better, truly shocking our oh-so-sophisticated (yeah, right) and jaded palates. I quickly got on the phone, and after chatting with the owner/winemaker/main grape picker, had a deal for exclusive distribution rights in the US.

Now let me introduce you to Jean Aubron, from the small town of Vallet:


His family has been making wines there since 1843, tending 11 hectares of enclosed vineyards, one of which is called Le Grand Fief de l’Audigère. His vineyards sit on calcium-rich deposits, which really make the grapes work for a living and this in turn allows the wine to really shine brightly. He isn't biodynamic, he's not fully organic, but instead opts to use the best practices of both and does what's called in French lutte raisonnée. This translates roughly to sustainable agriculture. To say I'm psyched to have found Jean is an understatement, he's doing some great, passionate work and it's really showing in his wine.

The village of Vallet is just southeast of the city of Nantes, on the Atlantic Coast. Jean's neighbors include some of the most beautiful chateaux in the Loire Valley, though of course this has no bearing on the quality of the wine. It does make for some pretty pictures, no?

The wines are made in stainless steel tanks, as can be seen in the picture below.


Then they age on their lees (the dead yeast cells - not as disgusting as it sounds) for 6-10 months depending on the vintage's requirements. What does this do? It adds a certain richness to the wine's mouthfeel, making it seem "rounder" in the mouth. Without this extra time, the wine would be mouth-puckeringly, almost painfully, lean and steely. As it is, the acidity in the wine seemed to strip the enamel off my teeth, but then again I'm an acid-freak and love that.

What to eat with wines like this? The classic accompaniement is fruits de mer, several ice platters full of seafood and shellfish, stacked on metal legs. To put it mildly, this is an awesome match.


And what does it taste like? The Grand Fief de l’Audigère Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine sur Lie is a lovely, flowery and briney wine, a true showcase of its terroir.
Lemon, lime, white flowers and salty notes of the sea vie for your attention, with a rich yet minerally mouthfeel and striking acidity that balances everything on the palate. This bottle should retail in the $11-14 range, depending on my customers' mark-ups of course.

As you can see, the label is modern, clean yet classic, something I always appreciate when seeking new wines for my book. It should be available in the upcoming months, assuming I can get someone to grab it.
Cheers!