Baby Corton Charlemagne
Dearest Good People,
Getting back on American soils for the first time in a few dozen fortnights. Luckily Continental offered 'It's a Wonderful Life' as a movie option which duly prepped me for this state of consumer anxiety as well as this freezing snow storm on the east coast. I have a handful of great wines in store - it's just the getting around to sending an email that seems to be the problem. A friend told me that they were confused by these emails, because it wasn't clear how to order, which I will delightfully clear up for anyone who is on this list and doesn't quite understand my garrulous writings on wine: I spend a large chunk of time in France and I keep my ear to the ground as relates to excellent winemakers - I then taste their wines (the hard part). My taste (which I've refined over a few decades) tends toward nuanced old-world aromas and delicacy. If I appreciate a wine in particular and can get a good price, I send an offer such as this.
If you happen to be interested, you can reply with the amount of bottles you might want. If I don't have an account on file I reply with what info I need to set up an account. Wines can be shipped anywhere in the US (with some slight exceptions) - or there is a pick up option. All is done in the spirit of prudent simplicity (that's where Thoreau comes in).
Let's get to another excellent find. The wine intelligentsia in Burgundy tuned me onto Sylvain Loichet, a passionate kid from Chorey. The stodgy London merchants are taking interest, because Loichet wines are showing-up some of the great producers. However, Loichet is unheard-of in the US. When I say kid, it's because Sylvain is 25 - and has a one-tracked mind for making the most pure, hand-made, naturally-composted, biodynamic range of wines - like the best of his contemporaries, he's an idealist, a junior Coche-Dury perhaps. While the market calls for mass-product wine, I say drink less and better (but within reason).
This odd-sounding commune of Pernand-Vergelesses has a tough name to swallow (there are no monkeys on the label to ease the consumer). However this quaint little village just north of Beaune has been producing haunting pinot noir and chardonnay for centuries – and with the influx of idealistic winemakers, one can find wines here that have the ripeness and depth to hold up to the looming grand cru of Corton Charlemagne (which sits in both Pernand and Aloxe-Corton). I like the 2007 vintage in the Cote de Beaune whites - because I find them to have more energy (aka: minerality) and charm than some prior vintages.
Sylvain comes from an industrious family of Carriere's - stone workers, who have owned vines for several generations, the grapes of which they historically sold off to a local negociant or two, that is, until Sylvain got to be of age. He found passion in the work of making wine from start to finish, and after graduating from Beaune's Lycee-Viticole and then some years working, coincidentally, with Olivier Merlin, he took back the vineyard contacts and started this domain in a garagiste-style cuverie. Four vintages later, he has won the rightful respect of his peers, more and more praise from the press, and a little 12 appellation, 30,000 bottle operation. I think what makes his wines so vibrant and beautiful is that he is extremely focused but not systematic; he chooses details such as his percentages of new oak, lees contact, or whether he will do a gentle fining, based on the vintage - which means he needs to be hyper-attentive - as
demonstrated by his permanently raised left eyebrow.
While I loved the range we tasted on that chilly February morning, I chose the Pernand because I found that it had a particular brooding quality without being closed - more inward, woven, structured for a white - and yet vibrant, mineral, floral and elegant. Only recent oak is used here, which serves to highlight the broad and silky notes. I was delighted with the complexity and nuance here, meaning that the aromas entice you to chase them around in the glass - not because they are so obvious but because they elude and then reveal themselves. Aromas that are present but not in-your-face (where the ‘haunting’ bit comes in) and that's what I call a great wine. Luckily I was able to negotiate a price that is the best in the US –
$34.50 per bottle. One bottle minimum. Go ahead and try a single
bottle if that is all your budget calls for.
Please reply with desired amounts - and thanks for reading.
Slainte,
Mary
mary taylor
ThoreauWineSociety.com
