Loire Trip I/IV

Oswaldo Costa

Oswaldo Costa
Ladies, gentlemen, and lurkers, welcome to the greatest show on earth. Inside this giant tent you will find the vinous equivalents of bearded ladies, dwarves, and giants, muscular acrobats and beautiful tight-rope jumpers, their tales augmented by vignettes and sidebars containing truisms and hearsay.

Perhaps I embroider, but much of interest came to pass during a recent, two-week visit to a score of natural wine luminaries from the Loire, the epicenter of the natural wine movement. The sum of what feeble memory serves and a trusty wine-stained notebook contains will be imparted for your vicarious pleasure, serialized in four easy installments.

Loire Part 1: Quick to Angers
Monday, October 11
Flying into Charles de Gaulle at the crack of noon we picked up our rental with, for the first time ever, a GPS. Marcia, whose job it is to navigate, had long pined for one, but it had eluded us since the pining began, for reasons that also eluded us. To break the ice, we chose Portuguese as the language of guidance, but since Brazilian Portuguese was not an option, the gizmo greeted us with the accent of our foremothers. So we named her Amlia, in honor of the immortal Fado chantress Amlia Rodrigues, and set off for Angers. The three hour drive was uneventful, but it was only after Amlia sent us the wrong-way down the Hotel du Mails street that we managed to maneuver into the driveway and check into the charming ancient premises, decorated in a distastefully tacky modern manner. The staff was attentive, but our second story room was no better than adequate, and the lack of an elevator combined poorly with our heavy suitcases.

Dinner at Le Salamandre
Dont ever arrive in France on a Sunday or Monday. Most of the better restaurants are closed, so we slunk over to the only recommended one that was open. Le Salamandre appears in a few guides, but served disappointing food made from good ingredients. The wine list was weak, but a fair percentage was available as halves. Since no halves remained of the Epir Savennires, we ordered a Closel La Jalousie which was premoxed (at least I got no typicity argument once the waiter tasted it), so had to content ourselves with our third choice:
2006 Dom. de Baumard Clos Saint Yves 13.0% 375ml
Screw cap; jasmine, fennel, wet stones; dilute, caramel sweetness, needs more acidity.
2005 Chateau de la Grille Chinon 14.5% 375ml
Sour cherry, leather, eucalyptus; good balance, good weight. Nice surprise.

Tuesday, October 12
001Mosse.jpg
A Rolling Stone Gathers no Mosse
We kicked off on the right foot with a morning visit to Ren Mosse, friendly and in good spirits. From behind a bar-shaped stand he chatted and poured, and it all felt like the ideal store tasting, one in which you have the producer to yourself for almost two hours. No sign of Agns. While we were there, one of the winerys employees came in to announce that the last harvest (Savennires) was finished. Sighing, Ren said that 2010 had not turned out so good (something I would not hear from anybody else); too much rain, too many grapes bloated and/or rotten.

Mosse uses zero or low SO2, but filters, finding the latter a lesser evil as refermentation insurance (something I would hear from several vignerons in the coming days). We talked about why wines close down: Mosse thinks its the result of excessive SO2; you dont notice it at first because the fruit is still very present, but then the wine shuts down, and stays closed until the SO2 starts to fade many years later (this dissipation is controversial; some sans soufre practitioners I spoke to think it never happens).

While tasting the whites, I remarked how they all had fennel notes; Mosse said that was the mark of the vintage. The two Anjou crus were just outstanding, certainly among the most impressive young whites I have ever tasted. Comparing the Rouchefer to the Bonnes Blanches, Mosse said the former was rounder, like a tube, whereas the latter was pointed, like a sharp tip.

2009 Anjou Blanc
Young vines (
 
Great and quick work, Oswaldo, thanks so much.

originally posted by Oswaldo Costa:


Fiat Lux moment #1: being a city slicker, I used to think individual vinifera bunches matured homogeneously, like their GMO supermarket cousins;

Some grapes (zinfandel) are particularly prone to this. Also depends on vine training, etc., etc.

003CdSMushrooms.jpg
Like little ducks in a row: mushrooms at Chateau de la Roche aux Moines (for SFJoe)
Hey, thanks! They look like blewits. (Clitocybe (Lepista) nuda)

A problem with purchasing used barrels from cooperage houses is that the grains and pores contain residues of others practices, including tartaric acid (from acidulation) and sulfur.

Not to mention bacteria. But you will get tartrate precipitates from many (most? all?) wines during fermentation and elevage. You can add more tartaric acid or not, but monopotassium tartrate precipitates are very common (and form weinstein in chilled bottles).

What was that old Randall Graham haiku? Something like this:

Little Mosel Kabinett
Too long in the refrigerator
The snows of Mt. Fuji

A different aspect seems to stand out at the beginning of every trip, and this time it was the frequent use of the prefix artisan before a profession, as in artisan-boulanger, artisan-boucher, artisan-ptissier, etc.

At my shop, we consider ourselves to be artisanal investment bankers.
 
originally posted by SFJoe:
Great and quick work, Oswaldo, thanks so much.

A different aspect seems to stand out at the beginning of every trip, and this time it was the frequent use of the prefix artisan before a profession, as in artisan-boulanger, artisan-boucher, artisan-ptissier, etc.

At my shop, we consider ourselves to be artisanal investment bankers.

Now there's a concept to strike fear into the heart.

I second Joe's praise, Oswaldo.
 
Ladies, gentlemen, and lurkers, welcome to the greatest show on earth. Inside this giant tent you will find the vinous equivalents of bearded ladies, dwarves, and giants, muscular acrobats and beautiful tight-rope jumpers, their tales augmented by vignettes and sidebars containing truisms and hearsay.
Ah, this is the Karn Evil 9 junket!

I used to think individual vinifera bunches matured homogeneously
Usually. Also, grape pickers sing in four-part harmony while they work, smiles on their faces all the while; farmers greet their neighbors with a "top o' the mornin'" and a tip of the hat; and a seemingly somnolent sheepdog protects the vineyards from ravening coyotes.

For an accurate filmic depiction of this and other agricultural truisms, I suggest Song of the South.

the process appeared closer to shooting for an average maturity for the overall vineyard, a point at which many grapes will still be under ripe, providing extra acidity, while some might be over ripe, providing extra sweetness
Actually, sometimes yes. I suggest visiting California's Central Coast one day for the "no green stems, no green seeds" argument taken to its logical conclusion.

Thanks much for these wonderful notes and photos, Oswaldo. And try not to collapse under the weight of Rahsaan's treacled enthusiasm.
 
originally posted by Oswaldo Costa: Pithon says thats because its a superb terroir, and vine age is less important for whites than for reds.

Anyone have thoughts on this comment? Is that generally considered to be true? What's the logic?
 
originally posted by Ian Fitzsimmons:
originally posted by Tom Glasgow:
originally posted by Yixin:
At my shop, we consider ourselves to be artisanal investment bankers.

I'm sure your clients do as well. Better that than a 'flow monster'.
The first salvo in the Great Rehabilitation has been fired.

Joe for Treasury Secretary!
I knew it would be a short hiatus for the boys.
 
Anyone have thoughts on this comment? Is that generally considered to be true? What's the logic?
As it is possible someone blogged about, recently, winemakers can be perfectly nice people who make perfectly lovely wine and still say things that make no sense. It wasn't the only questionable opinion in the report (from the wineries, not Oswaldo), in any case.

That said, it's an interesting contention. I'm trying to think about really old-vine whites that I've tasted. Riesling? Not overly ancient, as a rule (Claude, is this your experience as well?), but I think part of that's climatological, and I can say that the qualitative division of New Zealand riesling has absolutely no correlation with vine age that I can see. Chenin blanc? I don't know that anyone's talked much about chenin vine age to me in the Loire, but I know that it's considered a qualitative factor in South Africa (worth noting: one of many), in that pretty much everyone thinks their wines are getting better as the vines age. I know from both chatter and experience that it's considered important with mller thurgau and various trebbiano scions, in that the best examples I've tasted have always touted their advanced years. It's considered important with sylvaner as well, at least in certain places. On the other hand, a lot of the really terrific orange wines, and non-orange tocai/ribolla/etc. from Friuli and environs are made from very young vines; I recall Stanko Radikon basically shrugging at vine age for both whites and reds, and the Zanussos at i Clivi didn't seem overly concerned either. I'm not the one to ask about minor grapes like chardonnay.

But as important as it is in reds? An interesting question. Seems difficult to test, less difficult to assert. Like a lot of stuff, really. I wonder if the better hypothesis isn't that vines in "easier" terroirs (for which you can largely read "warmer") are more affected by vine age than those on cooler sites.
 
originally posted by Thor:
Anyone have thoughts on this comment? Is that generally considered to be true? What's the logic?
As it is possible someone blogged about, recently, winemakers can be perfectly nice people who make perfectly lovely wine and still say things that make no sense. It wasn't the only questionable opinion in the report (from the wineries, not Oswaldo), in any case.

That said, it's an interesting contention. I'm trying to think about really old-vine whites that I've tasted. Riesling? Not overly ancient, as a rule (Claude, is this your experience as well?), but I think part of that's climatological, and I can say that the qualitative division of New Zealand riesling has absolutely no correlation with vine age that I can see. Chenin blanc? I don't know that anyone's talked much about chenin vine age to me in the Loire, but I know that it's considered a qualitative factor in South Africa (worth noting: one of many), in that pretty much everyone thinks their wines are getting better as the vines age. I know from both chatter and experience that it's considered important with mller thurgau and various trebbiano scions, in that the best examples I've tasted have always touted their advanced years. It's considered important with sylvaner as well, at least in certain places. On the other hand, a lot of the really terrific orange wines, and non-orange tocai/ribolla/etc. from Friuli and environs are made from very young vines; I recall Stanko Radikon basically shrugging at vine age for both whites and reds, and the Zanussos at i Clivi didn't seem overly concerned either. I'm not the one to ask about minor grapes like chardonnay.

But as important as it is in reds? An interesting question. Seems difficult to test, less difficult to assert. Like a lot of stuff, really. I wonder if the better hypothesis isn't that vines in "easier" terroirs (for which you can largely read "warmer") are more affected by vine age than those on cooler sites.

Four words: Do Ferreiro Cepas Vellas

Mark Lipton
 
Back
Top