Tag Archives: Bordeaux

Tradition and Modernism in Bordeaux

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One glance at the label will show how much Bordeaux has changed: alcohol levels in 1982 were under 12.5%; in 2010 they will be around 14%. And this underestimates the extent of change, since roughly 1% of the alcohol was produced by adding sugar in the vintages prior to the 1990s. It’s not the alcohol I’m going on about, though; this is simply an indication of a change in style associated with much greater ripeness that has taken the wine from a vaguely herbaceous style (well, overtly herbaceous in cooler vintages) to a rich, ripe, black-fruit driven style.

Several different forces have come together to drive Bordeaux towards greater ripeness. There’s certainly a conscious determination to avoid wines with overt herbaceousness; warmer growing seasons and better viticulture are allowing the berries to become more mature before it’s necessary to harvest. But in spite of denials from châteaux proprietors – they do not go so far as the Burgundians who are prone to say that they make wine exactly as their fathers and grandfathers made it, but they tend to deny any deliberate change in style – market forces may be the most important factor.

In some other regions there has been a direct clash between tradition and modernity. Fathers and sons stopped speaking to one another in Barolo over the clash between modernists and traditionalists, and Brunello di Montalcino suffered from the same divide, although without such personal animosity. In Rioja some producers solved the problem by making two wines: one in the traditional style, and another under a new label in the modern style. In Bordeaux it is rarely so clear cut. Forming a view of the trend is complicated by the fact that in most cases a transition from traditional to modernist is associated with the sale of a château that was under-performing anyway. I am not sure there are any cases of a succesfull château changing from traditional to modern style.

When a château changes hands, there’s a common trend: to move to a new, more intense, more extracted, more “modern” style. This has been seen most dramatically outside the Médoc, with Château Pavie in St. Emilion¾famously converted after Gérard Perse bought it in 1998 to a wine loved by Robert Parker and loathed by Jancis Robinson­ in the 2003 vintage ¾and with Château Pape Clément in Pessac, which Bernard Magrez added to his portfolio (by inheritance) in 1985, and which subsequently became much richer and more extracted than was common in Pessac-Léognan. The verdict of the market has been quite clear: after the change in style, both have increased significantly in price relative to others that were formerly at the same level. This sets a clear enough precedent for others to emulate.

Examples within the Médoc are more ambiguous. In most cases, the impetus for the sale was that the old proprietor had lost interest (or lacked resources) and the château was palpably under-performing. Even if you regret the passing of the traditional style, it’s hard not to feel conflicted about the change when the wine was had problems before the transition and was so clearly technically improved afterward. Take Châteaux Prieuré Lichine and Lascombes in the Médoc, purchased by American investors in 1999 and 2001, where the style went from rather faded, perhaps one might say run down, to modern and bright. Others that might be put in the same category are Château La Tour Carnet (another Magrez property, acquired in 1999), La Lagune ( acquired by the Frey family in 2000), perhaps Pichon Baron (purchased by AXA in 1987). One counter example of a change in style by existing ownership is Léoville Poyferré, where Michel Rolland was brought in as a consultant in 1995. Everywhere it’s a one way street to modernity.

The contrast between before and after is so striking that it’s hard to assess whether it was necessary to go so far. And indeed, have the new owners gone further in their change of style than those châteaux whose styles have quietly evolved over the years: no one could quarrel with the quality of Léoville Lascases, Ducru Beaucaillou, or Pichon Lalande, but the wines of today are certainly richer than those of the past.

Some change is inevitable even where there is a conscious attempt to maintain traditional values. I’ve always viewed Château Montrose as one of the most traditional châteaux: its wines can take a decade or so to come around, but my goodness, do they justify the wait. They go from a real tough hardness in the early years to a savory elegance after twenty or thirty years that absolutely typifies St. Estèphe for me. The 1970 came around in the past few years and now puts most other wines of the vintage to shame.  I thought perhaps this era had come to an end when the Bouygues brothers purchased the château from the Charmolües in 2006, but was reassured when they hired  Jean Delmas, recently retired as winemaker from Château Haut Brion, to consult.

The question “has the style of Montrose changed in the past twenty years?” produced an emphatic NO! from general manager Nicolas Glumineau when I visited Montrose recently. However, they are making better balanced wines, less austere than earlier vintages, which perhaps were too masculine, he thinks. Nicolas sees the tannins as the key feature in the character of Montrose (and indeed Cabernet Sauvignon in general). “We can get more precision and earlier integration of tannins,” he says. Being more approachable now does not mean the vintage will not last as well. “In the seventies and up to the eighties, it needed fifteen years before the tannins integrated into the wine; the difference today is that the tannins are riper and integrate better and sooner. Tannin integration is a permanent question with Cabernet Sauvignon, but much less so with Merlot. The characteristics of Cabernet Sauvignon are its tannins, and quality is about getting them riper and well integrated into the wine.”

Has Bordeaux in general changed? “Probably more so on the right bank than the left bank, because Merlot is more flexible and responds to changes in the cuverie, but Cabernet Sauvignon is a more powerful variety. Also in the Médoc we are more attached to the personality of the growths. We [at Montrose] are very attached to Bordeaux wine, we do not want to make the sort of wine that you cannot place on a map,” Nicolas says. But he comments ruefully that if you want to adapt your wine to the global demand, to make international wine in a more jammy style, it is better to plant some Merlot, which adapts to a variety of soils.

I’ve often been tempted to join the lament that Bordeaux is losing its way, that it has succumbed to an international style that emphasizes fruit rather than savory character. Part of my concern was alleviated when I discovered that the 1982s – so rich and lush and un-Bordeaux like when first released – are now reverting to a more classic flavor spectrum. If 2000 and 2005 do the same, I shall be happy. And it is hard to characterize vintages such as 2001, 2004, or 2006 as overly international. So it comes down to how 2009 and 2010, with their intense extraction and high alcohol, will perform as they age in bottle. I admit I find it hard to see how a wine at over 14% alcohol can mature like classic Bordeaux, but there have been surprises before.

Where Has All the Cabernet Gone?

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Bordeaux is the world’s largest producer of Cabernet Sauvignon, with 28,000 hectares planted. Only a small part – perhaps 15% – goes into wines dominated by Cabernet Sauvignon; the rest is blended into wines where the dominant component is Merlot. Generally unknown, but running a fairly close second in plantings, is the south of France, with 22,000 hectares altogether in Languedoc and Provence (mostly in Languedoc). But how many interesting Cabernet-driven do you know from the south? What are they doing with all that Cabernet?

I spent a week in the Languedoc last month looking for Cabernet as part of the research for my book Claret & Cabs. I found half a dozen interesting producers and obtained a renewed respect for the practice of blending, whether with Bordeaux varieties or others. I wanted to know whether Cabernet Sauvignon in the south retained a typicity like Bordeaux or more resembled the warmer climates where it is grown in the New World.

I started my tour at Finca Narraza in Roussillon, not far from Perpignan just north of the Pyrenees, where Corinne and Gérard le Jan have a twenty year old vineyard of Cabernet Sauvignon. Interestingly, there’s just as much vintage variation here as in Bordeaux. Cabernet does well when the climate is Atlantic, but can be difficult to handle when it rains and the wind comes from the mountains or when the weather is too hot and it ripens too quickly. The main cuvée is an equal blend of Cabernet and Syrah, and the dominant influence seems to vary with the year. In either case, it’s fair to say that the wine shows more the aromatic influence of the south than of Bordeaux.

An interesting opportunity to see what a Bordeaux blend achieves in the south came from Verena Wyss, near Pezenas.  In the Belcanto cuvée, the structure of the Cabernet comes through quite clearly, but the aromatics are more those of the south, fruity and perfumed, than of the more savory tradition of Bordeaux. “There is no problem ripening here; it  is warmer and drier than Bordeaux. The training system needs to protect the fruit against excess heat, the opposite of tradition in Bordeaux where it needs to ensure good sun exposure. The problem here is not getting good maturity, it is avoiding over-maturity; the only answer is to harvest when the grapes are ready and not wait too long,” says Verena.

Another interesting insight came from the ability of Petit Verdot to ripen reliably in this climate,  which enables Verena to produce the La Tonga blend of 60% Cabernet to 40% Petit Verdot. Her I felt that the spiciness of Petit Verdot dominated the palate, making an attractive young wine, but I wondered whether it would age well. I received a partial answer when I visited Marc Benin at the Domaine de Ravanès, just a little farther west, where there is both a 100% Petit Verdot and a 50:50 blend of Petit Verdot with Merlot. “I don’t want to make a Bordeaux, I want to make a wine of the Languedoc, but with the Bordelais varieties. Here the Petit Verdot achieves the same maturity as the Cabernet Sauvignon and gives an interesting, structured wine,” Marc told me. Tasting these wines from 2002 and 2000 showed that Petit Verdot really matures very slowly indeed; I was left uncertain whether it would ultimately develop the same interest with age as Cabernet Sauvignon. But a vertical tasting of monovarietal Cabernet Sauvignon from 2007 back to 1995 showed some difficulty in getting a complete structural balance. The youngest vintage showed nicely concentrated fruits, but still a good way to go to maturity. “The Cabernet can be too strong. It’s not ready to drink straight away, you need to wait 3-4 years,” Marc said, explaining why he now blends the Cabernet with Merlot. Older vintages showed nice development, much along the lines of traditional Bordeaux, with savory and even herbaceous elements coming out. I was left with the impression that, just as in Bordeaux itself, blending produces a more complete and complex wine. A similar classic impression came from the Cabernet-Merlot blends at Domaine de Perdiguier, close by, where I revisited the question as to the typicity of Cabernet Sauvignon in the south. These wines sufficiently resembled Bordeaux AOC as to provoke me into realizing that by now I had made the transition into looking for something different in the south.

The pioneer for Cabernet Sauvignon in the Languedoc is Mas de Daumas Gassac, where the blend has now settled down at around 80% Cabernet Sauvignon with the remaining 20% consisting of a wide range of varieties, including the traditional Bordeaux varieties. The other varieties vary somewhat: initially they were mostly Malbec, Tannat, and Merlot; by 1990 they were described as Cabernet Franc, Syrah and Merlot; and today the label just says “several other varieties.” Daumas Gassac is not looking for the modern jammy fruity style. “We belong more to the Bordeaux 1961 attitude—wine with 12.5% alcohol and good acidity. Only 15% new oak is used to get finesse. The wine is no more typical of Bordeaux than it is Languedoc,” says Samuel Guibert, the current winemaker.

Almost adjacent, however, is the Domaine de la  Grange des Pères, where the attitude is almost the antithesis of Daumas Gassac but the wines are equally interesting. Daumas Gassac today, albeit way off the beaten track, is a modern facility with a snazzy tasting room, and constant trek of visitors.  Grange des Pères has a utilitarian appearance, it’s not especially easy to make an appointment with Laurent Vaillé who is nothing if not reticent, but the rendezvous, if successful, takes place in the working cave, where samples can be tasted from barriques. The wine is a blend of roughly equal proportions of Syrah and Mourvèdre with a minor component of 20% Cabernet Sauvignon. Minor, but essential. “The Cabernet Sauvignon is like salt in food. I do not want Cabernet Sauvignon to dominate my assemblage. Grange des Pères should have a southern character, but with freshness and that’s what the Cabernet Sauvignon brings,” says Laurent. Tasting barrel samples, you can see what each variety brings to the blend. All are rich and powerful with a good level of tannins, the Syrah full of rich, deep back fruits, the Mourvèdre distinctly spicy, and the Cabernet herbal and fresh. It’s not so much the acidity of the Cabernet as such, but the tightness of its structure that freshens the blend. Without it, the wine would have more of that jammy fruit character of warm climates. So here the Cabernet in effect is playing a moderating role on the sheer fruit character of the other varieties: almost exactly the opposite of the role it plays elsewhere as a “cépage ameliorateur” in strengthening weak varieties.

Over in Provence, the pioneer for blending Cabernet Sauvignon with Syrah was Eloi Dürrbach, who planted the vineyards at Domaine de Trévallon, near Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, just south of Avignon, in 1973. In the (relatively) cool microclimate at Trévallon, the two cépages play the traditional complementary roles: Cabernet Sauvignon can be austere, but Syrah softens it (without acquiring the jammy notes of the southern Rhône). Barrel samples of the two varieties before assemblage (which takes place only just before bottling) show more similarities than differences: in the 2010 vintage, both cépages showed dense black fruits with good tannic support, with the Syrah just a touch more aromatic and the Cabernet just a touch sterner. The interesting comparison was with a pre-assemblage blend, made because there wasn’t enough of either separate cépage to fill another foudre.  The increase of complexity was obvious, combining roundness with precision, sternness with aromatics. Usually the Syrah is a little more evident as an influence than the Cabernet, says Antoine Dürrbach, but it varies from year to year. There is no attempt here at instant gratification: usually the wine does not open up for ten years, he told me, but then it will last another decade. Indeed, the 2001 vintage was just beginning to open up in October 2011. I would be inclined to say that it has something of the aromatics of the south combined with the texture of Bordeaux. The whole is certainly greater than you might expect from the sum of the parts tasting the individual varieties.

My last stop to investigate blends of Cabernet with southern varieties was at Domaine Richeaume, farther east in Provence, located just underneath Mont Sainte Victoire. The backdrop to the vineyards could be a painting by Cézanne. There’s a small production of monovarietal Cabernet Sauvignon, the Columelle cuvée of Cabernet and Syrah, with a small component of Merlot, and the Tradition cuvée which is equal Cabernet Sauvignon and Grenache. The Cabernet gives the impression that seems to prevail with a monovarietal all the way from Bordeaux to Provence: more precision and elegance than the other varieties or even than the blends, but less completeness, just not quite filling in entirely on the mid palate. Syrah by itself goes the other way: lovely aromatics to the fore. Columelle is a good compromise: Syrah aromatics with that structure of Cabernet underneath. I wasn’t quite sure with the Tradition whether Grenache was filling in the fleshiness the Cabernet lacks by itself, or whether the Cabernet was giving structure to an amorphous Grenache, but it did not seem to me that the marriage was a complementary as Cabernet and Merlot.

They are quite disdainful in Bordeaux about growing Cabernet in the south. “It’s a big mistake,” the Directeur at one second growth blurted out when I asked what he thought about growing Cabernet there. “There isn’t any Cabernet in Languedoc,” one senior figure on the Bordeaux wine scene said, when I mentioned that I was visiting Cabernet producers there. But there are certainly interesting wines, based on Cabernet Sauvignon or containing a significant proportion of it, in Languedoc and Provence. They are no challenge to Bordeaux, not because they are necessarily inferior to it, but because their overall flavor spectrum is different: whether the Cabernet is a monovarietal, blended with Bordeaux varieties, or blended with other varieties, it takes on at least a partial tinge of the aromatics of the south. But none of the top wines fit into the rules for AOC, and they have not been imitated to any significant extent by others. So they create no halo effect to lift up the region. And in terms of the total production of Cabernet Sauvignon in Languedoc and Provence, my attempts to identify wines of character might account perhaps for a couple of hundred of the twenty thousand hectares. What are they doing with the rest?

The vast majority of Cabernet Sauvignon in the Languedoc goes into relatively inexpensive brands, produced on a relatively large scale for France. In fact, the Languedoc is France’s largest source for varietal-labeled Cabernet Sauvignon.  (The authorities would not give me any official figures for production of Cabernet Sauvignon in the Vin de Pays of the Languedoc, but I calculate there must be around 10 million cases of Cabernet Sauvignon or wines based on Cabernet. This compares with a total production for generic AOC Bordeaux of around 25 million cases, most of which has Cabernet Sauvignon only as a minor component.) Should the Bordelais be quite so disdainful of the varietal-labeled brands under the Vin de Pays labels? Given the inroads that have been made into the market at the level of Bordeaux AOC by varietal-labeled New World wines, isn’t the Languedoc more a threat by fifth column since it combines the mystique of being French with the varietal-labeling that appeals at this level of the market, and a more forward, fruit-driven style?

Finca Narraza, Vin de France, 2008

This equal blend of Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon shows an impenetrable black color. A touch of reduction on the nose rapidly blows off. The black fruits of cherries and plums show an impressive density on the palate, supported by fresh acidity and firm tannins that are integrating nicely. The impression in this vintage is dominated more by Syrah than Cabernet, as indicated by the rich, plummy aromatics. It’s a more powerful wine than the 2009, albeit just a touch rustic in its overall impression. It will no doubt show greater smoothness in a year or so and should drink well for up to a decade. 89 Drink 2013-2021.

Finca Narraza, Vin de France, Cuvée Raoul Blondin, 2008

An impenetrable black color with a stern nose, although this is 80% Syrah and 20% Cabernet Sauvignon. Some savage notes to the nose resemble Syrahs of the northern Rhone. The dense black fruits on the palate are ripe and unctuous, deep and long, with a chocolaty texture. The Cabernet Sauvignon gives extra backbone to this basically Syrah-dominated wine. The structure is somewhat buried under the density of fruits but should support aging for a decade. A very fine effort. 90 Drink 2013-2021.

Verena Wyss, IGP d’Oc, La Tonga, 2007

This wine is a blend of 60% Cabernet Sauvignon and 40% Petit Verdot.  Spicy nose has intense aromatics. The classic notes of Petit Verdot are really evident, with a peppery spiciness on the nose showing as all-spice on the palate, which is full of flavor and character. The deep fruits show as blackcurrants and plums, with ripe tannins in the background. The Petit Verdot gives that Rolls Royce sense of power, but does it make the flavor spectrum just a touch monotonic? 90 Drink-2020.

Verena Wyss, IGP d’Oc, Belcanto, 2007

Belcanto is a Bordeaux-like blend of 60% Cabernet Sauvignon, 30% Merlot, and 10% Petit Verdot. It shows a medium to deep ruby color with a touch of garnet indicating the first development. The restrained nose gives an impression of black fruit with some floral notes. The underlying structure shows the influence of Cabernet Sauvignon quite clearly, with smooth black fruits supported by ripe tannins. At first the tannins hide behind the fruits, but then they come through to show as dryness on the finish. This elegant wine is certainly Old World not New World, but shows a touch more overt aromatics than would be found in Bordeaux. 90 Drink now-2021.

Domaine de Ravanès, Coteaux de Murveil VDP, Petit Verdot, 2008

Petit Verdot matures well in the Languedoc, offering the opportunity to make a varietal wine. Actually, the Petit Verdot at Ravanès is usually kept for blending into the top wines, but in this year it was interesting enough to make a monovarietal, without wood exposure. The year had a dilute character overall, but the wine shows the purity of the Petit Verdot fruits. The spicy nose might easily lead you to believe there had been oak exposure. Dense fruits show purity of line similar to varietal Cabernet. This shows very well as a young wine, but there is a certain direct focus that suggests aging won’t bring out real flavor complexity. You can certainly see what Petit Verdot brings to a blend. 88 Drink now-2016.

Domaine de Ravanès, Coteaux de Murveil VDP, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2007

This was the last year a monovarietal Cabernet was produced. It is still a dark ruby purple, showing very much a Cabernet nose with austere black fruits. Ripe and rich fruits dominate the palate, supported by ripe tannins. Very good extract but still not quite ready. Nice texture: there’s no exposure to wood so the forcefulness of the Cabernet fruits comes right through from this good year. 88 Drink 2013-2018.

Château de Perdiguier, Vin de Pays des Coteaux d’Enserune, Cuvee d’en Auger, 2007

This blend of 85% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Merlot spends a year in new oak. It has more evident concentration and roundness than the regular bottling. This vintage is still a deep ruby color with little sign of development. Black fruits on the nose have an austere edge with a touch of smoke and chocolate. The palate of ripe black fruits shows a touch of classic herbaceousness on the finish, but accompanied by a chocolaty texture. Tannic support shows as dryness on the finish. 88 Drink now-2017.

Château de Perdiguier, Vin de Pays des Coteaux d’Enserune, Cuvee d’en Auger, 2001

Dark color with only a slight touch of garnet developing. Restrained but classic nose with those herbaceous hints of bell peppers. Nicely rounded on the palate with good freshness and attack; the bell peppers come back on the finish. This gives a rather classic impression of a Cabernet Sauvignon dominated wine, although it’s half Cabernet and half Merlot. 87 Drink now-2014.

Mas de Daumas Gassac, Vin de Pays de l’Hérault, 2008

This is an elegant wine with Cabernet Sauvignon represented in a lighter style. Fresh on the nose and palate with a slight spiciness and some aromatic complexity. The Cabernet is identified by notes of cedar, with  lively fruits on the palate which show a faint savory touch of the garrigue. For the south this is a restrained style. Good variety of flavor across the palate supported by an unobtrusive structure with tannins well in the background.  88 Drink-2017

Mas de Daumas Gassac, Vin de Pays de l’Hérault, 2006

Nose shows fresh red fruits and a touch of nuts with intimations of complexity. Elegant fruits on the palate, following the red spectrum of the nose. There’s a touch of savory influence from the garrigue. Opening up in the glass, the wine shows its delicacy, yet with the fine structure and tannic support of Cabernet. It brings back memories of some of the more delicate older vintages of Bordeaux.  90 Drink-2016

Domaine de Trévallon, 2001

This vintage is just beginning to start its evolution. It’s a medium density color with some garnet on the rim. The nose is quite developed, and shows gunflint with a touch of some tertiary barnyard aromas. The palate is less developed than the nose, showing ripe blackcurrants and plums, but the tertiary notes come back on the finish. Tannins show as dryness on the finish. Personally I’d wait another couple of years for the peak, after which the wine should hold for some time.  91 Drink now-2020.

Domaine Richeaume, Vin de France, Columelle, 2009

Black fruits drive the nose. Freshness on the palate cuts the ripeness of the fruits, which show the typical aromatics of Syrah. Although the Syrah dominates the palate, there’s a sense of restraint and finesse, which is perhaps due to the Cabernet. The overall impression is fine grained and elegant. 30% of American oak was used here. 90 Drink 2012-2020.

Domaine Richeaume, Vin de France, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2008

Some evolution on the nose has occurred in the last year. It’s a touch reduced, with some hints of gunflint and a touch of barnyard. The black fruits are quite stern on the palate. This is less open, less overtly fruity than the Cabernet blends. The good fruit concentration comes back on the finish where ripe tannins are evident. The developed notes of barnyard certainly cut the fruits: it’s an interesting question whether they will become complex enough to offset the lightening of concentration as further maturation occurs. This wine was matured exclusively in French oak. 88  Drink 2012-2018.


The Perils of Tasting: Auctions and Condition

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I have been brought up short more than once at tastings by wines that display an unexpected character, but I was led to wonder about the whole question of assessing wines or vintages on the basis of tastings by a tasting of 1989 Bordeaux organized by a wine store in New York. The wines as a group showed a flat profile rather suggesting that the vintage is not aging well and might have been over rated. Thinking that I might need to put my 1989 Bordeaux up at an auction, I pulled a bottle out of the cellar to check. It was quite different from the bottles we had had at the tasting, and I realized that I might have been completely misled. I don’t know the detailed provenance of the bottles at the tasting, but I suspect that they came from recent auctions: caveat emptor, indeed.

Suspicious as to how often I might be misled by bottles in less than perfect condition, I have been making some more comparisons after going to tastings, pulling the same wines from my cellar that I had bought en primeur, and which have been kept under temperature and humidity control ever since. I regard these as equivalent to tasting wine at the chateau. And sometimes I have also been able to taste wine at the chateau of the same vintage to compare with a tasting elsewhere. In several such comparisons, always made within a short time period, there was only one case in which the wine at the chateau or from my cellar was not distinctly superior. That was a comparison of Palmer 1996, where the wine at the chateau showed austerity, and the wine at the tasting was more forward and delicious: perhaps in this case the wine has simply developed more rapidly outside the chateau.

The most striking comparison was between two bottles of Ducru Beaucaillou 1996, both tasted last week. One at a tasting organized by a store in New York had such a curious nose of over-ripe fruit that I even wondered whether it was authentic. (I’m not sure I would have placed it in Bordeaux if I had tasted it completely blind.) I found it impossible to believe it was the same wine as a bottle from my cellar, which showed a completely classic development, a bit of a surprise in the post-1982 era, but a happy one. Indeed, I wonder whether I should revise my opinion of the 1996 vintage, which based on this tasting I had put down as only somewhat better than average (Bordeaux 1996: the Throwback Vintage).

In the present market, most of the wines at tastings of old vintages have probably passed through the auctions at some point. I am sure that the auction houses do their best to check provenance and condition, but whenever I see in an auction catalog “removed from temperature controlled storage,” the question that leaps into my mind is: “yes, but where was it for the twenty years before it went into the storage?” The moral is that you are safe at auction only if the catalog specifically guarantees that the wine was stored ever since the vintage in the same cellar under controlled conditions. Given the way wines are circulating around the auctions these days, that is becoming an increasingly difficult standard to meet.

Léoville Barton, 1989

From my cellar

Quite undeveloped appearance with ruby hue. Nose shows black fruits dominated by blackcurrants and blackberries with some faintly musty overtones that intensify retronasally There’s lots of black fruit on the palate, supported by soft, plump tannins. The intensity of the fruits combined with that faintly musty note give this a more modern impression than is usual for the chateau. No signs of tiring yet, good for years.   92  Drink -2021.

At tasting in New York

Medium garnet color with some paling orange at the rim. Red fruits in mid development with a soft impression on the nose. Balanced acidity supports the soft fruits on the palate,  fruits are red rather than black, there’s a touch of heat on the finish, well balanced and the acidity may keep it going longer than the average 1989, but there’s not a great deal of flavor variety. Not quite up to the usual precise standard of Léoville Barton.

Pichon Lalande, 1996   

Direct from the chateau   

Medium garnet color. Classic nose, with fruits turning savory, although no tertiary development yet. Completely classic on the palate, a throwback to the seventies in style, dominated by the Cabernet Sauvignon. Savory black fruits have a touch of herbaceousness, with the sense of bell peppers carrying through the long finish. The acidity is less pressing here than in some wines of the vintage. This should continue to mature in the classic style – which is to say savory with vegetal overtones rather than overtly fruity – until the tannins overtake the fruits.   89 Drink -2020.

At tasting in New York

Medium to deep garnet color. Restrained nose with faint black fruits, just a touch of herbaceousness coming out slowly on the finish. Ripe fruits show that herbaceous edge on the palate, with bell peppers strengthening on the finish, the sweetness of the fruits is evident, but the tannic touch strengthens on the finish, giving the impression that tannins may overtake the fruits.

Palmer, 1996

At the chateau

First touch of garnet color showing. Restrained nose has more red than black fruits. Faint savory touch is not quite as developed as 1999. There is a typically smooth impression on the palate, with relatively delicate fruit; the tannins are receding into the background, although there’s a faint touch of medicinal austerity. It may be that being a high Cabernet wine does not suit Palmer very well.  90 Drink -2018

At tasting in New York

Medium garnet color still with some ruby hues. Restrained nose with suggestion of black fruits, soft and perfumed. Developing slowly, this is elegant and soft on the palate, with just a faint herbaceous touch coming out on the finish where there is an impression of a slight tannic bite. Perhaps the concentration falls off a bit on the finish; the wine may be at its peak right now. It is one of the most openly delicious of the vintage.

Ducru Beaucaillou, 1996

From my cellar

Quintessential St. Julien, claret in the old style. Herbaceousness of Cabernet Sauvignon is tamed by the fruits (or vice versa). This is slowly maturing, full-throated Ducru, with a slowly maturing core of dense fruits turning savory, a distinct touch of herbaceousness on nose and palate, but making a delicious counterpoise to the sweet fruits. There’s the elegance and precision of St. Julien, more than a touch of austerity reflecting the character of the vintage, but this is as good as the vintage gets.   92 Drink -2019.

At tasting in New York

This wine showed such a surprising aroma and flavor spectrum that I wondered whether it was in fact the 96 vintage, but that was what the label said. The first oddity was the curious character of the nose, which showed a touch of over ripe, even rotten fruit. This followed through to the rich and soft palate, which seemed more like the 95 than 96 vintage or a right bank rather than left bank. Average acidity supports the fruits and makes this a pleasant enough wine in its own right, but I just could not find the typicity of St. Julien or the usual elegance of Ducru.

Bordeaux 1996: the Throwback Vintage

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A tasting of 1996 Bordeaux gave me pause for thought about the quality and longevity of the vintage. Hailed at the time as a great vintage, 1996 had a promising start to the season, but rain around harvest time created problems. The wines have always had high acidity and tannins, but the promise was that they would come around to be classics. Certainly the vintage seemed likely to be throwback to the vintages that preceded the transition to the modern era in 1982, except that one might expect more concentration from improvements in viticulture and vinification (especially the introduction of sorting). But I am inclined to a revisionist view after this tasting, which suggested to me that the wines are better than average, but this is far from a great vintage. It is not the vintage of the century, it is not even the vintage of the decade (that award goes to 1990, which although not completely even is wearing better). Yes, there are some excellent wines, and some that will continue to mature in classic style, but many have already reached the end of the road. The most common problem is a sort of flat flavor profile: the wines have survived and aged, but have not matured.  The fruits have never reached a savory apogee, and the tannins lack generosity, so I expect the fruits to dry out along the lines of 1975 before the tannins resolve.

The awards from this tasting go to:

Grand Puy Lacoste – the most terroir-driven wine, the quintessence of Pauillac.

Palmer – the most overtly delicious wine to drink for dinner tonight.

Margaux – the most elegant, although still yet to reach its apogee.

Latour – the longest lived, life expectancy to be measured in decades rather than years.

Tasting Notes

Château Pape Clément, 1996

“It’s the quality of Merlot that makes Pape-Clément what it is, so why is it that all the great vintages are Cabernet years? It’s the Cabernet tannins that give the real quality when they are ripe,” according to Bill Blatch. Although 1996 was a Cabernet year, however, I’ve had equivocal experiences with Pape-Clement from this vintage. In this case, the wine showed a bright garnet color with an orange rim. The Cabernet nose is quite restrained, with just a touch of cedar in typical Graves fashion. This shows as an elegant wine with a nice balance, the fruits on the finish on the verge of austerity, with good supporting acidity, and tannins drying the finish. But it seems to be aging rather than maturing, and  the Cabernet is not as dominant on the palate as you might expect from this year; the wine is not developing flavor variety or tertiary notes and seems somewhat four square;  88 Drink-2016.

Château Palmer, 1996

Medium garnet color still with some ruby hues. Restrained nose with suggestion of black fruits, soft and perfumed. Developing slowly, this is elegant and soft on the palate, with just a faint herbaceous touch coming out on the finish where there is an impression of a slight tannic bite. Perhaps the concentration falls off a bit on the finish; the wine may be at its peak right now. It is one of the most openly delicious of the vintage.  90 Drink-2019.

Château Ducru Beaucaillou, 1996

This wine showed such a surprising aroma and flavor spectrum that I wondered whether it was in fact the 96 vintage, but that was what the label said. The first oddity was the curious character of the nose, which showed a touch of over ripe, even rotten fruit. This followed through to the rich and soft palate, which seemed more like the 95 than 96 vintage or a right bank rather than left bank. Average acidity supports the fruits and makes this a pleasant enough wine in its own right, but I just could not find the typicity of St. Julien or the usual elegance of Ducru. Judgment reserved until I taste another bottle.  86 Drink-2014.

Château Léoville-Poyferré, 1996

Although Michel Rolland started consulting at Léoville Poyferré in 1994, this wine gives the impression that he hadn’t yet had time to make much impression. It still shows some of the quality that used to cause the wine to be called Léoville Voie-ferré (after the railway, and referring to a somewhat metallic tinge to the tannins). It’s a medium garnet color but still has some ruby hues. There just a faint touch of perfume on the nose with a touch of cedar, and a faintly herbaceous hint, but not much evident fruit. The palate is rather dumb, there’s an absence of concentration on the mid palate, the fruits seem a bit monotonic and lifeless, and the finish is a bit short. Evidently Michel Rolland had his work cut out to turn this around.  87 Drink-2015.

Château Léoville-Barton, 1996

Medium garnet color. The nose hints more of red fruits than black, with a faintly herbaceous note, but is somewhat subdued. The ripe quality of the fruits on the palate is evident, but even so, there is a slightly hard touch to the finish, characteristic of the vintage, with bell peppers slowly developing on the finish. This was a lovely wine, but the fruits now seem to be beginning to fade, and it is time to drink up.  87 Drink-2014.

Château Léoville Lascases, 1996

Medium garnet color. Restrained nose but gives impression of a wall of fruit, with a touch of herbaceousness. Classic palate, but seems more Pauillac than St. Julien (not that unusual for this chateau), with savory black fruits showing a herbaceous edge. Good concentration, but developing slowly. Even though it softens a bit in the glass, the overall solidity of the structure is what comes through. Tannins dry the finish, a bit ungiving in Lascases’ usual style. Should mature for many years yet.  90 Drink-2017.

Château Pichon Baron, 1996

Medium ruby color with orange at rim. Restrained nose has a touch of perfume with the faintly nutty black fruits. Ripe rich fruits show on the palate, a full style in characteristic Pauillac fashion, with just a slight tannic bite to the finish, which seems to come up a fraction short. Development here is much slower than many others in this vintage, hard to assess the future, but the overall impression is a bit chunky, and the wine is more likely to continue in that vein than to become elegant.  89 Drink-2021.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1996

Medium to deep garnet color. Restrained nose with faint black fruits, just a touch of herbaceousness coming out slowly on the finish. Ripe fruits show that herbaceous edge on the palate, with bell peppers strengthening on the finish, the sweetness of the fruits is evident, but the tannic touch strengthens on the finish, giving the impression that tannins may overtake the fruits.  89 Drink-2018.

Château Pontet-Canet, 1996

Medium garnet color. Restrained nose with subdued black fruits, just a faint hint of Cabernet Sauvignon followed by a suggestion of perfume. Sweet ripe fruits on the palate show the high proportion of Merlot (almost 40%), but the overall impression is a bit four square. There’s a touch of heat on the finish and the tannins don’t seem very generous. Medium fruit concentration, but not much development; in fact this bottle seems a fraction less developed than the last tasting, two years ago. It’s not obvious what will provide the basis for further development.  88 Drink-2017.

Château Grand Puy Lacoste, 1996

A very upright and proper claret, a great success for Grand Puy Lacoste and for the vintage. Appearance shows almost deep garnet color. Some savory and tertiary development comes on the nose, with a faint touch of bell peppers and sous bois. Black savory fruits follow on the palate, accompanied by a touch of bell peppers and cedar, with good flavor variety and development. Elegant in style, it should become more tertiary over the next decade. This is quintessential Pauillac. and shows every sign of continuing to develop along classic claret lines.  90 Drink-2021.

Château Lynch Bages, 1996

Medium garnet color. restrained nose shows faint black fruits and a barely detectable herbaceous touch. Nice solid black fruits are slowly developing on the palate, cut by faint herbaceous notes on the finish, with a touch of chocolate. There is (just) enough flavor variety to be interesting. This is very characteristic of the chateau and a good result for the vintage: it should continue to develop but a touch of bitterness on the finish needs to soften to make this completely successful.  90 Drink-2019.

Château Calon Ségur, 1996

This wine peaked about three years ago, when it showed its characteristic absolutely traditional lines of savory fruits balanced by a herbaceous finish. But now it seems to be in decline. It shows a medium to dark garnet color. There is still a classic Cabernet nose (the wine included 40% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Cabernet Franc this year), savory to herbaceous, with bell peppers evident. It comes over as a fairly tough wine on the palate, a little hard on the mid palate, with herbaceousness dominating the finish. The overall flavor profile seems a little flat as the fruits perhaps are beginning to dry out, and I get the impression that now the tannins will take over and outlive the fruits.  87 Drink-2016.

Château Cos d’Estournel, 1996

This wine has been up and down in tastings, perhaps due to condition problems. This was one of the better bottles. Appearance shows medium garnet color. Attractive nose has a touch of exotic perfume, turning to nutty black fruits. The palate has rich, ripe fruits cut by a touch of bell peppers. The nature of the vintage shows itself in the tannins, which bring a bitter touch to the finish. But the rich opulent style of the chateau served the wine well in this vintage by countering what became a medicinal quality in some wines. Overall impression is rich and spicy, relatively soft for St. Estèphe, as Cos now so often is, but cut by a touch of bell peppers to give complexity.  90 Drink-2019.

Château Margaux, 1996

Medium garnet color. The nose gives up a faint impression of black fruits with a tertiary edge. First growth quality is unmistakable on the palate, with that smooth, seamless elegance of black fruits, Cabernet-driven, beautifully cut by a faint touch of herbaceous bell peppers and some notes of chocolate. Aging seems quite slow, with flavor variety and complexity emerging gradually, but expect savory and tertiary development over the next decade. Still too young really.  92 Drink-2025.

Château Latour, 1996

Dark garnet color. Fairly closed nose of black fruits with some bell peppers just showing its Cabernet Sauvignon origins. Dense black fruits on the palate are developing extremely slowly, just cut by a touch of bell peppers on the finish, but what strikes one above all else is the sheer density of the fruits. A touch of the typical acidity of the vintage shows on the finish, This is one of those massive Latours that takes decades rather than years to develop.  92 Drink-2030.

Pichon Lalande Tasting

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A vertical tasting of Pichon Lalande with Sylvie Cazes in New York gave surprises about both chateau and vintages more than confirming expectations.

When I investigated second wines a few years ago, I came to the conclusion that they are indeed second best not only with regards to the grand vin of the chateau but also with regards to other wines at the same price. In comparative tastings, it usually seemed that a Cru Bourgeois at the same price point was a better wine than the second wine of a Grand Cru Classé. Since then, especially with good vintages becoming more frequent, second wines seemed to have improved somewhat, but at this tasting I was not especially impressed with either vintage of the Réserve de la Comtesse. The 2006 seemed just to be a little too thin; blind I would have taken it for a Cru Bourgeois somewhere towards the bottom of the hierarchy. The 2003 fared a bit better, but did not seem very convincing. In neither case did it seem that the second wine was a bargain based on applying the expertise of the chateau at a lower price level, which is the usual justification.

The 2005 Pichon Lalande gave real pause for thought about the vintage. I’ve never thought of Pichon Lalande as one of the most “international” of the chateaux – nothing like as exotic as Cos d’Estournel, for example – but this seemed like a throwback to the seventies. Unmistakably Cabernet-dominated, the fruits never seemed to come to life, and I was left with the impression that they might dry out before the slightly hard tannins resolve. Where was the supposed opulence of the vintage? Some notes reminded me of 1996 or 1975, with a possible imbalance developing between fruit and acidity. It definitely did not show nearly so well as the 2004, a nice wine for drinking now.

The 2003 fared relatively well insofar as it hasn’t fallen apart like so many, but nothing will persuade me that this was a great vintage, as it was being described. Where’s the elegance, where’s that traditional lightness of Bordeaux? The only thing to do with 2003s is to drink them up – or sell them off at auction.

The 2000 was a big surprise: last time I had this wine it was developing distinctly herbaceous notes. Today they showed more as cedar with some vegetal overtones. The nose was so totally different from anything else at the tasting that the lady next to me decided her glass must have a problem, and asked for another pour in a fresh glass. This wine supports those taking the minority view that for some chateaux, 2000 was not as good as 2001.

The most fascinating comparison was between the  Cabernet-driven 1996 (75% Cabernet Sauvignon) and the Merlot-driven 1995 (45% Cabernet Sauvignon). The 1996 was the one wine that was really characteristic of its vintage: very classic, savory and herbaceous – in style more like the seventies than the eighties. But I think it still has a bit too much acidity and tannin for it really to mature to a classic. By contrast, the 1995 was absolutely delicious: it’s come right around in the past five years and is the peak of perfection for a left bank Merlot, soft and supple but with adequate structure. So much for the Medoc being best in the Cabernet years.

The 1985 was for me the wine that had  it all: classic herbaceous notes in a context of ripe, sweet, but savory fruits: the wine of the tasting. This was not the vintage I would have picked out ahead of time as the most likely to excel. A few years ago the 1975 was showing as one of the best wines of the vintage, a slightly tighter version of what the 1985 has become today, but now the 75 has passed its peak, and the high toned aromatics suggest it is in decline.

The motto: never mind the Ides of March: beware the Vintage of  the Century. 1975 has never fulfilled the expectations raised at the time (vin de garde, my foot), 1996 is not going to come around (another vin de garde that won’t make it), 2000 may be going into decline, and 2005 may not make it. The wines showing best were 2004 (a lovely restaurant vintage) and 1985 (never hailed for its longevity at the outset). It ain’t so easy as they think to judge these vintages en primeur.

Tasting Notes

Réserve de la Comtesse, 2006

Slightly spicy black fruit nose gives a fresh impression. There’s a light fruit impression on the palate with a touch of vanillin. Crisp acidity leaves a tang on the finish and gives some emphasis to the light tannins. Overall impression is that the palate is driven by relatively light Cabernet fruit. A little too acid, a little too light in fruit concentration, this is relatively disappointing for the second wine of a super-second.  86 Drink-2016.

Réserve de la Comtesse, 2003

First touch of garnet in appearance suggests some development, but not much evident on fresh black fruit nose, except a bit of lightening in fruit intensity. Palate shows very good acidity for 2003, black fruits with vanillin overtones, but the fruits already are beginning to dry out and the tannins are beginning to stick out just a little. Not a bad result for the vintage but somewhat lacking in focus.  86 Drink-2014.

Pichon Lalande, 2005

Medium ruby color already with a touch of garnet. A mellow nose has a very faint touch of nuts. The palate is smooth and fresh, not at all the blockbuster you might expect from the reputation of the vintage. The overall impression is quite classically Cabernet-driven, fruits with a touch of asperity backed by tannins that don’t seem very generous, decent structure to age well, although softening a little in the glass to become nuttier. Blind I would put this down as an average rather than great year, and in short, more of a throwback to the classic style than would be expected from 2005.  88 Drink 2014-2021.

Château Pichon Lalande, 2004

A garnet touch to the color suggests some development. The fresh black fruit nose gives a faint impression of perfume. Nice balance on the palate between black fruits, just a touch of asperity from the tannins shows retronasally, but overall the tannins are quite soft. This is a very good result for the vintage, producing a wine that will drink well now and hold for a few years. A perfect restaurant wine.  88 Drink-2018.

Château Pichon Lalande, 2003

Age indicated by medium garnet color with some orange at rim. Black fruit nose shows blackcurrants and a touch of cedar, even a faint touch of herbaceousness on the nose, somewhat surprising for this vintage. Rich and chocolaty on the palate, with tannins that are ripe but giving a faint impression of being over cooked. The wine becomes a touch hard on the mid palate in the glass. It may be that the tannins will outlive the fruits. The wine is not falling apart, as many are, but it gives a slightly clumsy impression, not atypical of this vintage. It should be drunk in the near future.  87 Drink-2015.

Château Pichon Lalande, 2000

This wine is full of surprises and has changed yet again. What appeared as herbaceousness two or three years ago now shows as an intense cedary aroma on the nose, following through to palate and finish. The dusky garnet color still appears relatively youthful. It is hard to pick out the fruits on nose and palate against the background of cedar, but they seem to be in good balance with the acidity and tannins. The wine gives a very dry, classic impression: it is lean rather than opulent. 90 Drink-2021.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1996

Medium garnet color. Classic nose, with fruits turning savory, although no tertiary development yet. Completely classic on the palate, a throwback to the seventies in style, dominated by the Cabernet Sauvignon. Savory black fruits have a touch of herbaceousness, with the sense of bell peppers carrying through the long finish. The acidity is less pressing here than in some wines of the vintage. This should continue to mature in the classic style – which is to say savory with vegetal overtones rather than overtly fruity – until the tannins overtake the fruits.  89 Drink-2020.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1995

This wine is now at a delicious point, much softer and more open than the 1995. The garnet color is beginning to lighten up. The nose shows notes of nuts and semolina, giving over to slightly more vegetal notes (nut less intense than a few years ago). The palate is soft, supple, and  fleshy – the antithesis of the classic 96. This is really delicious right now; although there is decent structure, it does not have great potential longevity.  90 Drink-2016.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1985

The hit of a vertical tasting of Pichon Lalande. Lightening garnet color. Classic nose showing bell peppers and a touch of cedar. Acidity quite noticeable on the palate, which generally follows the nose. Beautiful balance, now a point with savory fruits not yet turning tertiary. Elegant and delicate, with bell peppers strengthening on finish. Very fine grained structure. A bit of a surprise that this year should end up with such a completely classic development.  92 Drink-2016.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1975

This wine probably peaked about five years ago, when it showed an absolutely classic aroma and flavor spectrum of a left bank, Cabernet-dominated wine. It’s still in the same tradition, but the fruits are beginning to dry out. It’s a lightening garnet color with a touch of high toned aromatics on the nose. The fruits on the palate start out surprisingly sweet, but the touch of bitterness intensifies in the glass: you have the sensation that the fruits are drying out in the glass, allowing the bell peppers to become more dominant on the finish. Slowly the dryness of the finish takes over.  88 Drink up.

Bordeaux and Robert Parker

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There is no doubt about Robert Parker’s influence on Bordeaux. Ever since he famously got the 82 vintage right whereas many others got it wrong, he has been by far the most influential commentator on Bordeaux’s annual release. His influence, together with that of other critics, is much increased by fact that most Bordeaux wines are sold en primeur, pushing consumers to make their purchasing decisions long before they have a chance to taste the wines. Unless you want to pay prices that in good vintages can be much higher by the time the wines are available, you have to rely on the opinions of critics who taste en primeur.

In most vintages, chateau owners wait with bated press for the April issue of the Wine Advocate containing Parker’s ratings of the vintage. When Parker did not make his visit to assess the 2002 vintage (because of the Gulf war), Jancis Robinson commented that the Bordelais would now have to relearn the whole art of selling their wine en primeur – without Mr. Parker. But in every other vintage for the past three decades,the Wine Advocate rating has been an important factor in determining the level of interest in the vintage – and presumably in individual chateaux.

There are certainly some striking examples of the effect of the Wine Advocate’s ratings of individual wines. In the 2001 en primeur campaign, Climens was its usual one third above the price of Suduiraut and Rieussec. When it was promoted to a perfect score of  100 in the final review in June 2004, its price differential over the others increased to 200-300% worldwide. In the en primeur campaign for the 1990 vintage, Chateau Montrose’s release price was in its usual position just below Cos d’Estournel. The Wine Advocate’s review of the vintage en primeur rated it highly, but then a re-review after bottling promoted it to 100 points. Immediately its price reached double that of Cos d’Estournel at the auctions.

Both these examples represents cases where the wine was available on the after-market when the 100 point review came out. I’ve been looking for some way to assess whether critical influence has the same effect when the wines are en primeur. I’ve just spent a week in Bordeaux working on my book on Cabernet Sauvignon, but also picking up data for a new edition of my earlier book, What Price Bordeaux?, including en primeur prices from the Place de Bordeaux for recent vintages. The 2008 vintage is an interesting situation that might answer the question.

2008 was a difficult vintage in Bordeaux. Various climatic problems resulted in a rather small vintage, decent but not outstanding in quality. When the en primeur campaign started in April 2009, the world economy was in full retreat and it was not obvious to the Bordelais how they would be able to sell the vintage. The first growths took an unexpected lead. Usually they come out at the end of the campaign, but this year they acted in concert right at the beginning, dropping their prices by almost half from 2007. This was a clear signal to the market to create value. During the second half of April, chateaux came out at prices ranging from two thirds of their 2007 prices to a couple at parity.

The opinion of the vintage expressed in the Wine Advocate at the end of April was a surprise. Mr. Parker declared that the vintage was much better than had generally been appreciated. “I was worried that at best, quality would be average to above average… several French newspapers came out with stories about the deplorable quality of the 2008 Bordeaux vintage,” he said, but then found that “It did not take me long to realize that the 2008 vintage was dramatically better than I had expected… the quality of the 2008 vintage turned out to be excellent, with a number of superb wines that are close to, if not equal to the prodigious 2005 or 2000 vintages.”

Comparisons with 2005 and 2000 might be expected to give a definite lift to the reputation of the vintage. Indeed, chateau proprietors who had already committed their prices felt somewhat rueful that they might have done better to wait. But those who came on the market later did not in fact see much significant gain. Excluding the first growths, chateaux declaring during April averaged 87% of their price relative to 2007, while those coming out in May averaged 94%. The difference is mostly due to a small number of chateaux whose prices were rather low right at the beginning of the campaign, around the time the First Growths came out. If the Wine Advocate report had a direct effect, it was probably to reinforce a view that was already developing that extreme reductions (below 80% relative to 2007) were not necessary. As a scatter plot of the data shows, the majority of chateaux were in a range between 80% and 100% of their 2007 prices throughout the campaign (the First Growths are in red).

Chateau prices for 2008 relative to 2007 during the en primeur campaign

Now I am not suggesting that the Wine Advocate doesn’t have influence: far from it. But I suggest the data show that there are other important factors also, in this case the combination of a poor reputation that (rightly or wrongly) had already been established for the vintage, together with the background of economic difficulties. Generally speaking, when the Wine Advocate presents its view of the vintage, it’s against a background where expectations have already been created, and to some extent the detailed ratings refine and extend those expectations. When it’s reputed to be a great vintage, consumers are looking for assistance in making their decisions. It seems they are not so easily swayed when the news is significantly different from their expectations. In the same way, I showed in What Price Bordeaux? that the most important influence on the relative price of a wine in any year is the price it achieved the previous year. It’s not that criticism isn’t important, but that – with the notable exception of cases where a wine is give a perfect score that lifts it right up out of its usual situation –  critical opinion takes some years to affect the annual pricing.

So the naysayers who worry that Robert Parker (or any other critic) has undue influence over the entire process might take some comfort from the thought that there are many influences at work here. Some of those influences are due to informed opinion, some are due to propaganda, some are due to ignorance, and when you look back years later at the supposed vintages of the century, it’s far from evident that the outcome, however determined, is particularly accurate at the time. Certainly it’s not easy, even with experience, to be sure of judging wines after only six months in the barrel, and if the blame is to put anywhere for the rush of the lemmings, it’s on the system rather than individual critics.

The Heart of Bordeaux

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Where is the heart of Bordeaux? Most people would probably argue that it lies with the famous 61 chateaux of the Grand Cru Classés, but I was led to wonder by a recent bottle if tradition might now be maintained more by the Cru Bourgeois.

In Bordeaux to start the research for my book on Claret, I arrived late on Sunday and found my way to Prieuré-Lichine in Cantenac where I am staying for a few days. It’s an interesting experience to stay in a chateau, surrounded by vineyards and workers, rather than in a hotel surrounded by tourists. You get more sense of the working life of the operation.

The Médoc is rather sleepy on Sunday night, and there are not a lot of choices for dinner. After the rigors of travel, we did not feel in the mood for a really grand meal, so eschewed the delighted of Michelin-starred Cordeillan Bages for the local brasserie in Margaux. One of the pleasures of being here is that even modest restaurants have reasonable wine lists, including choices of half bottles.

We tried a half of Chateau Labégorce, a well regarded Cru Bourgeois in Margaux (recently reunited with Labégorce Zedé to reform a single chateau, thus recreating one of the larger Cru Bourgeois. But this bottle came from 1995, well before the reunion. In anticipation I was a little uncertain as to whether a Cru Bourgeois would have held up for fifteen years, but I was very pleasantly surprised.

The slightly herbaceous nose spoke to me immediately of traditional Bordeaux, yet there was no evidence of lack of ripeness in the black fruits, which seemed full and sweet on the palate to counterpoise the savory finish. Certainly this wine might not please people brought up on the forward, bright fruits of the New World, but to me it spoke eloquently of Bordeaux in general, and indeed specifically of Margaux.

No doubt it did not have the power and concentration of the top wines, and it will not age to reach their level of complexity, but many of the Grand Cru Classés have now adopted the international style of late-harvested, extremely ripe, fruits, so I was left wondering whether it’s at the level of Cru Bourgeois that the old traditions are now being perpetuated. And if so, is this because it is too difficult to achieve super-ripeness at the level of Cru Bourgeois or a conscious decision to maintain tradition?

Chateau Labégorce, 1995

Still a dark color without much sign of aging in its appearance. Classic nose is cedary and slightly herbaceous with notes of bell peppers. Black fruits on the palate have a sweet ripeness overlaying the classic savory flavor spectrum. This is a traditional style with the light touch of Margaux and very appropriate for the top tier of Cru Bourgeois. The balance is harmonious and the wine is aging gracefully.

Wine additives and manipulation

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“Chaptalization” and “watering back” come close to words that cannot speak their name: at the very least, they are extremely sensitive subjects that you bring up at your peril with producers in France on the one hand, and in California on the other. Each is a miracle of transmogrification. Chaptalization consists of turning sugar into wine; well, technically the sugar is converted into alcohol, but the bulk of the sugar increases the bulk of the wine – in fact you can calculate that it’s a lot cheaper to increase the volume of your wine by chaptalization than by growing more grapes. Watering back is the practice of diluting the must before fermentation; this is pretty much a direct conversion of water into wine. Attitudes to the processes are mirror images: chaptalization is illegal in California, and watering back is regarded as a fraud in Europe. In the course of thinking about what determines the typicity (or typicities) of Cabernet Sauvignon in Bordeaux and Napa, I have been trying to get some information about the extent of the two processes. As I am off to Bordeaux for my first research visit, I’ve been concentrating on chaptalization for now, but I’ll return to watering back later when I go to Napa.

Chaptalization is legal in the northern parts of Europe, and consists of adding sugar, up to a limit that is usually below 2%, to the must, either before or during fermentation. Introduced as the result of Chaptal’s advocacy in the early nineteenth century, it compensates for lack of sugar when the grapes don’t reach sufficient  ripeness to have an adequate level of alcohol. Some producers believe that best results are obtained by adding sugar before fermentation, effectively creating the level that would have been reached if the grapes had been riper. Others believe that gradually timed additions are better, or a small addition at the very end, which stresses the yeast – DRC are great believers in this last option, and no one could quarrel with the quality of their wines!

It seems to me that it’s a reasonable question of public interest as to how much chaptalization is used, but whenever I’ve attempted to find out, I’ve been given a royal runaround. Producers who use chaptalization in France have to make a declaration to the tax authorities in order to pay tax on their usage. When I wrote my first book on Bordeaux, I asked the Customs authorities in Bordeaux for information, but they said the local office of INAO would have it. So I enquired in Bordeaux, but was told INAO in Paris would have it. Of course, INAO in Paris then told me that the Customs in Bordeaux would have it!

Spurred by the fact that the famous ampelographer Pierre Galet quotes the Service de Douanes as his source for figures on the use of sugar in Bordeaux between 1996 and 2000, I made a renewed effort last month. “Producers who wish to enrich their wines by sucrage, by adding concentrated must, or by concentration by cold treatment (congélation) must deposit a declaration of enrichment at the local office of the Customs,” Patrick Leduc of the Douanes informed me. “But the service cannot divulge any statistics on the use of sugar,” he added. So I asked him how M. Galet had obtained the figures that feature in his book (Cépages et vignobles de France : Tome 3, Les vignobles de France), which show that Bordeaux was the second highest user of sugar after Champagne (which of course uses it for dosage). Why cannot I have similar information for the years from 2001-2010, I asked. “Because our service does not possess the requested information,” M. Leduc replied.  When I pointed out that there’s a small inconsistency here, that first it’s claimed Customs can’t divulge the information, then when it’s demonstrated they have in fact previously divulged the number, they claim they don’t have the information, I received no reply. (You have to wonder what’s the point of paying taxes if the authorities don’t even know they’ve got the money.)

I do not think this obsession for secrecy serves the interests of the producers well. When I’ve asked in Bordeaux about the use of chaptalization, the usual answer is that it’s been much rarer since 1997. That’s pretty much what you would expect from the run of warmer vintages. The fact alone that alcohol levels are now pushing 14% in Bordeaux, whereas previously it was a struggle to get to 12.5%, suggests that chaptalization often may be unnecessary. What I expected the figures to do was to confirm the anecdotal impression that chaptalization is less frequent (although I don’t expect it to have disappeared completely, and it might well have needed to come back for the 2011 vintage). But before I conclude that Bordeaux is generally free of added sugar, I’d like to see some confirmation in the form of real numbers. Producers are fairly transparent about which varieties go into the assemblage each year, what proportion of production is diverted to a second wine, how much new oak they use – so if chaptalization is a respectable process, why should there be such secrecy about it, especially if it’s in decline?

I still have not succeeded in obtaining any information about the extent of chaptalization in Bordeaux since 2000, but the sugar manufacturers are quite proud of the varied usages of sugar in France. Their annual report gives the tonnage used for the 15 most important sectors. Chaptalization just creeps into the bottom of this list (just below Glaces, sorbets et crèmes glacées). Assuming that wine is treated at 1.75 kg/hl (just below the limit), it’s possible to calculate what volume of wine has been chaptalized, and what proportion this is of the total harvest in France. It comes to between a quarter and a third in cool years (such as 2007) but drops to around 17% in warmer years (such as 2005). The rock bottom level was 13% in the record hot year of 2003. (The percentages would be higher if the average level of chaptalization was lower.)

We are pitifully under informed about wine compared to the information that is mandatory for foods. I’m not advocating that the label should have a detailed list of every ingredient that was used to treat a wine, but I do wonder whether it’s naive simply to assume that wine is a natural product made from grapes, and to allow labels to state features such as the percentage of each variety but not other ingredients. Of course, it would be a lot less glamorous to say “this wine was made from 70% Cabernet Sauvignon, 28% Merlot, and 2% sugar.”

The High Life: Wine at 37,000 feet

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Flying transatlantic isn’t a great opportunity for fine wine and dining, but there really isn’t much else to do on the flight besides eat, drink, and sleep, so I thought I’d make an assessment of the present state of the high life. Flying American Airlines from New York to London, en route to start research in Bordeaux for my book on Cabernet Sauvignon, my assessment got off to a poor start in the lounge before takeoff, when the sparkling wine was Gloria Ferrer Brut from Sonoma. Judged by the taste, Brut is clearly a misnomer. Sweet to the point of being sickly, the monotonic palate had a strong taste of green apples (although without the matching acidity you might expect), and if you had told me it was a sparkling apple cider, I would have been hard put to argue. There are some fine sparkling wines made in northern California, but this is not one of them, and proved to be a sad harbinger for what was to follow.

Things improved briefly after takeoff when the Champagne was Pommery. Now this has never been one of my favorites – it always used to strike me as too thin and lacking in fruit – but it has definitely improved since Vranken acquired the brand name in 1990. I don’t know whether taste is affected by the low pressure at altitude, but this now seems to be a respectable, if rather ordinary sparkling wine. There’s not much character to it, and the dosage is just a touch too high for my taste – I wonder whether my impression that dosage has been increasing is right or whether my palate has changed – giving an impression that sugar is being used to compensate for lack of flavor interest. The wine seems essentially uninteresting and its flat flavor profile gave me some trouble in trying to find descriptors for a tasting note. You don’t expect originality from Grand Marque Champagnes, but I still think Pommery could do a better job to disguise its mass produced origins.

The white wines offered a choice between L’Ecole No. 41 Chardonnay from Washington State and Thilion Torbato Sauvignon Blanc from Sardinia. I had some trouble distinguishing them. If I were to be unkind I would say that the Chardonnay was a forlorn attempt to achieve the New World style. The palate has been loaded with oak to disguise the lack of ripeness in the fruit. The oak flavors stand aside from the fruits, and if I didn’t know that the wine had been aged in barriques I would have wondered about the use of oak chips The oak gives a hard, disjointed, phenolic note to the finish. This is one of those rare wines that would have been improved by a shorter finish, as what mostly lingers on are those disjointed oak phenolics.

Despairing of the Chardonnay, I turned to my wife’s Sauvignon Blanc (actually a blend of Sauvignon Blanc with the indigenous grape Torbata), although its relatively deep golden color made me feel suspicious even before I tasted it. A sniff made things worse. Instead of the expected grassiness or herbaceousness came a sort of slightly astringent citrus note. Maybe this is due to the Torbata, which is supposed to have a smoky aroma. Again the palate was loaded with harsh phenolics. I would have placed this as an aromatic variety in a blind tasting, but I think I would have had some trouble recognizing Sauvignon Blanc in it. I wonder whether I would have been able to identify the wines, if I’d been given them blind and told that one was Chardonnay and one was a Sauvignon blend. It wouldn’t be easy to find varietal typicity in this pair, but perhaps the greater acidity and aromaticity would identify the Sauvignon.

On to the reds, where we tried the Villa Mount Eden Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa and the Tres Picos Garnacha. Now I remember a period in the late 1970s when Villa Mt. Eden had a great reputation. In fact, based on Robert Parker’s recommendation, I bought a case of the 1978 vintage and drank it for several years. It never achieved greatness, but was still holding up quite well in 1993 when I had the last bottle. Sic transit gloria mundi. I do not think the old style is remotely recognizable in the current wine. When I swirled and smelled the wine, I wondered if there had been a mistake as the aromas of black cherry fruits with some piquancy came up at me. No, I decided on smelling my wife’s wine, which was even more aromatic and piquant. Following to the palate, the Cabernet showed no more typicity of Cabernet than the Chardonnay had of Chardonnay. The only note of relief was an oaky vanillin that seemed artificial. I’ve never really thought of Cabernet Sauvignon as an intensely aromatic variety, but after this wine I might have to change my opinion. (To be fair, you can find some high-end Napa or Barossa Cabernets with fairly distinct aromatics, but although I don’t usually like the wines, at least I can recognize a matching concentration and fruit intensity that hangs together.)

After this, I approached the Grenache with trepidation. The only information American Airlines provided about its origins is that it is produced in Spain. It turns out to come from the Campo de Borja DO, just to the south of Navarra, where Grenache is the principal grape. I have to disagree with Robert Parker’s high ratings for this wine. Aromatic and piquant on the nose, it followed through to the palate with bright red cherry fruits and a piquancy that made me wonder about acidification, with a slightly sickly nutty end to the finish.  But I have an idea. Add a little sugar and the profile would be perfect for a dessert wine. (After this, I decided not to sample the dessert wine, which however seemed to be a perfectly respectable vintage port.)

I can’t completely exclude the possibility that my palate was out of whack at 35,000 feet, but at all events the common feature of these wines seemed to be excessive striving for intensity. Subtle they ain’t. Even at the crunched price point – I calculate that if every passenger had a glass of wine American would be spending about $2.00 per passenger – there could at least be more variety of choice.

The food was better than the wine but not by a large margin. In all the years I have been on American Airlines, the food has never been up to much. Ranging from barely edible to inedible, sometimes it strikes me as unfit for human consumption (well, consumption by this human, anyway). In the past year or two there’s been some slight improvement. There was always a tendency on American to make the food highly spiced – just what you want at 35,000 feet where you tend to get dehydrated anyway – I assume to disguise the poor quality of the ingredients, but fortunately that phase seems to have passed. Of course, the days of  Krug and caviar on transatlantic flights are long since gone, but surely they could do better than to serve dried out hot meals. I’d settle for cold salads made from better ingredients any time (but I guess the bean counters won’t wear it). In any case, I’ll leave the last word to an American flight attendant, who some years ago said to me, “We’re not fine dining, we’re transportation.”

The Best Terroir is the Best Terroir

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How far can you take terroir? It seems blindingly obvious that some sites produce better wine than others: it is not rocket science to suppose that a sunny spot in the middle of a well drained slope will produce better wine than a cool, shady, damp spot at the bottom.  And I am prepared to buy the fact that slight differences in terroir can reliably produce different nuances in the wine: I was quite convinced of this by several series of pairwise comparisons in Burgundy when I was researching my book on Pinot Noir. Other convincing examples come from comparing, for example, Ernie Loosen’s Rieslings from different vineyards in the Mosel. You can’t mistake the fact that these wines are consistently different, although all made in the same way. But the unresolved question that sticks in my mind is whether different terroirs match different grape varieties or whether the best terroirs are simply the best terroirs. (The middle of that slope would probably produce better plums, apricots, or apples than the bottom.)

I was much struck by this issue when visiting Pinot Noir producers in Germany. All of them, of course, also produce Riesling; in fact, for most of them the Pinot Noir is little more than a sideline. Everywhere in Germany, Riesling is planted in the best terroirs. Those terroirs that aren’t quite good enough for Riesling are planted with other varieties. But where is Pinot Noir planted? Are there spots that are really suitable for Pinot Noir but where Riesling would not succeed? This does not seem to be the case. Pinot Noir is a demanding grape, and it is usually planted in spots that would also have made good Riesling. The best terroirs are the best terroirs, and it’s a matter of choice whether Riesling or Pinot Noir is planted there. And as for the effect of terroir on the nature of the wine, I saw similar effects on both Pinot Noir and Riesling: more minerality, more sense of tension in the wines from the volcanic soils in the north, to rounder, fatter wines from the limestone soils in the south, and softer, lighter wines from sandstone soils in the east.

Is it a general rule that every wine region has a top variety (or varieties) that take the best terroirs? Even on the left bank of Bordeaux, where you hear a lot about the perfect match between Cabernet Sauvignon and the gravel-based soils, it’s really more the case that the gravel-based soils are the best terroirs – so Cabernet Sauvignon is planted there. Merlot is planted in the spots that couldn’t ripen Cabernet Sauvignon. I’ve yet to hear a proprietor extol a vineyard for the perfection of the match of its terroir to Merlot – I suspect the match is more faute de mieux.

Are there regions that grow multiple top varieties where we could test the argument that there are terroirs that are equally good but suited for different varieties. Burgundy seems the obvious case, where the contrast is increased by the fact that Pinot Noir is black but Chardonnay is white. Isn’t it the case that the terroirs of Puligny Montrachet, Chassagne Montrachet, and Meursault, are uniquely suited to Chardonnay whereas those of (say) Nuits St. Georges, Clos Vougeot, and Gevrey Chambertin are uniquely suited to Pinot Noir?

Not exactly. The focus of the appellations to the south of Beaune on white wine is quite recent. Until the second half of the nineteenth century, Puligny Montrachet was mostly planted with Gamay, Chassagne Montrachet was almost exclusively red, and Meursault was divided between red and white wine. The area that is now Corton Charlemagne mostly produced red wine until the twentieth century.  And in the eighteenth century, Clos Vougeot’s white wine was almost as highly regarded as Le Montrachet, as indeed was a white Chambertin. Could we at least argue that the change is due to better understanding of what grape varieties are suited to each terroir. No:  it’s the economy, stupid.

When fashion has swung to and fro on red wine versus white, plantings have followed. Here’s a modern case in point. Beaune’s Clos des Mouches is one of the few vineyards that have both black and white grapes. But there isn’t any pattern to the plantings that follows details of terroirs: in fact, rows of black and white grapevines are more or less interspersed, according to what was needed when replanting last occurred. And as Chardonnay has proved more profitable than Pinot Noir, there’s been a trend towards replanting with Chardonnay.

If the best terroirs are the best terroirs, what determines the best variety for each location? Well, climate is no doubt the most important factor: heat accumulation and hours of sunshine are basically going to determine whether and when the grapes reach ripeness.  Are the best terroirs simply those where historically the grapes have ripened most reliably? On the hill of Corton, where the plantings of Chardonnay for Charlemagne stretch round to the western end of the hill, where Pinot has trouble in ripening, you might argue that the best terroirs are planted with Pinot and second best with Chardonnay, although I have to admit that they make wonderful white Burgundy.

So here is the challenge. Are there examples where two terroirs in the same vicinity give different results with two grape varieties of the same quality (and color if we want this to be a rigorous test)? If one terroir gives better results with one variety and the other terroir gives better results with the other variety, then I will withdraw my conclusion that the best terroir is the best terroir and matching grape varieties is down to climate.