Baudry
I had my first visit to Baudry this trip. I’ve been drinking the wines for ages, of course, but I had never had the chance before to visit the vineyards and cellar. It was really a treat. Bernard and Matthieu are understated guys, but my impression of them is that they are always trying to figure out incremental ways to make their wines better. The degree to which they think about things and the subtlety of each improvement help explain why you don’t see me out trying to make wine myself. People like Bernard and Matthieu remind me just how far behind the curve I would start.
My Loire red epiphany was the 1989 Grézeaux from the Baudry. I went to a sit-down tasting at a wine shop on the wines of the Loire when I was in graduate school (it was cheap). The ’89 Grézeaux made a big impression on me but horrified my fellow tasters. They found the herbal thing too prominent; they wanted more fruit; they probably even wanted less acid. I had a very different take—I thought, “Man, give me some chicken with rosemary and this will go to town.” To me, the wine was distinctive in my universe and had an obvious specific utility. I drank my last bottle last year with a famous NYC caviste who turned the bottle around and said, “I put that sticker on this bottle.” Nice. I would also mention that Bernard in particular is known for his palate and technical expertise from his days with the INAO—Marc Ollivier makes a point of tasting his wines with Bernard at the Salon every year to get his opinions, which is remarkable considering how little Melon Bernard has made.
But these guys have come a long way since that ’89 and are making better wines now than ever. They took us out to see some vineyards, but the choice was a bit constrained since it had been raining for months, ever since harvest. The Granges is a small slope, you might even call it a benchland, in the alluvial plain of the Vienne river. Frankly, the landscape reminds me a bit of Napa, except the vines are older and lower to the ground than you typically see in Napa since the big replanting. As you look up at the hillsides surrounding the river, you see that many of them are forested. Matthieu notes that there was a big expansion of the AOC in the 1970s and that the hillsides are probably excellent vineyard land that has not been worked since after the war. It is much easier to cultivate the flatlands, of course. In the Granges, they need to compost—the sandy soil is very poor. If they don’t, they get lower yields, but also find harsh tannins in the wine. They also plow or disc the top couple of inches to disrupt grass and surface roots—too much grass would take too much water away from the vines. He had a point about some of the neighbors who do “golf course vineyards” where alternate rows had grass, but the commentary eludes me now—maybe someone can chime in to remind me? We passed one on the drive.
The Baudry have a nice map of the geology of their valley on the wall in their tasting room, I took a picture and put it here.
We also went into the Croix Boissée, which is not a simple terroir, but you can see more of the variation of clay over chalk—the midslope retains water well, and they usually can leave grass there. The upper slope of Guillot [add: Boissée] is too chalky for Cabernet Franc. They felt the tannins were too crunchy, so they planted over to Chenin. (In contrast, say, to the Foucault, where Nady has Chenin in deeper clay, so go figure.)
All the Cabernet Franc has been fermented in unlined concrete since 2005. They felt that stainless was too reductive an environment and that the small oxidation through concrete gives the wines what they need. (For context, I spoke to another winemaker last week who had abandoned concrete for wood to get more air, but she was working with a more reductive cépage in the south.) Previously, they would have had to rack the wines more, add sulfur, and so on, but concrete allows them to work with less manipulation. They would in general rather bottle their wines later, but they also need to be present in the market, so for instance the Granges is bottled in May and September. They would rather do it all in September. They have experimented with 10% whole cluster but didn’t like the results. They last chaptalized in 2001.
Bizarrely, their rosé doesn’t sell well in Europe, so it’s now all for the US (hooray!). It’s some young vines of Clos Guillot and some near Les Granges. The 2012 is a fine version, zippy (still some CO2), fresh and fruity. The MLF is done, defying the local tradition of blocking malo on rosé. They think they get good balance and minerality from well-tended vines and don’t need extra acidity, and I’ve always found the balance on these wines to be excellent. The 2012 Les Granges suffered from poor flowering, but what they have is tasty, light, fruity, with moderate tannins in balance. The 2012 Les Grézeaux (from 65 y.o. vines in clay and gravel at the base of the slopes) is all in barrique. Their production was down 40% in ’12 with a bit of rain during the harvest, but the wine shows gobs of CF fruit cushioning very fine tannins. The wine is generous and lively and surprises Matthieu, who says it usually doesn’t show so well so young. The Clos Guillot (clay over yellow limestone) is also surprisingly open and lively, though as always it is a poster child for limestone minerality. The Croix Boissée hasn’t yet undergone MLF, so the acid is more prominent than it will be in the finished wine. They now keep this 2 years in barrel, up from previous 12-18 months, as they like the wine better with longer elevage. The ’12 has a lot of depth and power, as well as good chalky tannins from the white limestone. All the 2012s have alcohols between 12 and 13%. They didn’t show us the 2012 Domaine.
They had a long dry spell in 2011, which caused trouble in the sandy terroirs of Granges and Grézeaux (the Domaine has sand, but has chalk below so the vines can access more water). Since 2007 they have used a conveyor to take the grapes into the vats instead of pumping the must. Even an occasional guy like me can taste a difference in texture, a new fineness to the tannins from fewer bruised seeds. The 2011 Grézeaux is an earthier, barkier wine than some other vintages, maybe a bit like 2004. It will match different cuisine than 2009 or 2010. It will also probably need more time in bottle. The 2011 Clos Guillot shows more fruit now, it’s more ripe on the nose, and it probably did better through the drought because of the deep clay and limestone site. The Croix Boissée is fairly classic, not big and ripe, but it has good balance and big structure. Age this sucker.
The 2010s are pretty classical here; it’s a straight-up vintage. The Domaine was bottled last March after a year in concrete. The nose is beguiling now after a bit more time in bottle. It has nice light structure, good freshness, it’s pretty. The Grézeaux has more acid and zip, it’s really exciting wine, a little graphite mixed with the fruits on the nose, but it has real balance between fruit, minerality and acidity. I just bought some more. This might be another ’89, really. The limestone crunch in the tannins of the 2010 Clos Guillot is cushioned by more fruit in 2010 and proves less obvious than in leaner vintages, but Matthieu thinks it’s still there. The wine is also excellent, elegant with great equilibrium and harmony. It’s very long. The 2010 Croix Boissée is remarkable, very dark berry on the nose, unusually deep in color, but just brilliant stuff. I would say that the 2010 reds I tasted from the classic regions of the central Loire were very much my kind of wines.
We also tried a 2011 Croix Boissée blanc (as mentioned, from the top of the slope). This went through MLF to give ta of ca. 4g, so it is the limestone that gives the perception of structure. It’s savory and smoky and tasty. I am not always a huge guy for Chinon blanc, but this wine could make you believe.
Clos Rougeard
I had my first visit to Clos Rougeard in several years. Getting in there always feels a bit like getting an audience with the Pope. In addition to our group of folks from Seattle, Portland, SF, Chicago, Florida, NYC, etc., etc., there was a sommelier from some Michelin 3-star and some others who came and went in the ancient cellar. If you ask me, Nady overdoes it a bit with the spray-on cellar mold, but of course tastes vary in interior décor. After all the introductions, Nady said, “Salvador Dali had it wrong. He said the center of the universe is the train station at Perpignan, but clearly it is rather here in Chacé.” Tentative chuckles all around.
He lost a lot of grapes in 2012 in Poyeux and the Clos to hail, but had less damage to the Bourg and the white. Yields were already down from the same poor flowering that affected most everyone. This estate shouldn’t need an introduction to this crowd, but I’d mention that the Bourg gets 100% NFO, the Poyeux gets barrels that have seen one wine (mostly the Bourg, but for 2 years), and the Clos barrels that have seen one or two wines. He feels the essential thing in barrels is to leave the wood out in the weather for at least 4-5 years before use, and that various commercial efforts to accelerate that interval generally give a poor product. He has his barrels made locally to his spec. The production here in a typical vintage is “0-30,000 bottles.” Zero being 1991. 2012 is presumably on the smaller end of that range. He didn’t show us any 2012s.
I mentioned elsewhere that these guys don’t have bad vintages, only different ones, and I believe it. I can think of two wines in the last decade from them that I really didn’t love, and even those you could drink.
He described 2011 as rainy and cool, with a good September. Definitely lighter than 2009 and 2010. The Poyeux has a barky CF nose, refreshing acidity, medium length, medium-light body, and fine tannins. Totally successful light vintage. The Bourg has sweet oak on the nose (though that usually moderates with another year of élevage), good fruit, medium weight, and a longer finish. These vines are roughly 70 years old.
The 2010s were bottled on the day of our visit, but they showed well. He assembles 3 months ahead of bottling. The Clos includes anything he doesn’t bottle as Bourg or Poyeux. 2010 is a bigger and more structured vintage, with higher acidity. The tannins have softened a bit, but the wine is quite classic. He will sell the ‘10s after another year in bottle. The Poyeux is more complex, with deeper fruit, and is perhaps a bit softer. The Poyeux has more sand than the Bourg’s classic clay, but they share similar white tuffeau underneath. He feels the wines have similar longevity, that the Poyeux is more elegant, but thinks they just have different styles. But this Poyeux is classic. The 2010 Bourg is less open on the nose, but you can taste the hidden depth. Bigger in the mouth, much more tannic, with a long savory finish, this is memorable stuff. It’s pretty, but finishes with real grip.
The 2009s are less typique, with more gras. Riper wines overall. The Poyeux is starting to have some bottle flavors appear, but it is much more plush than 2010, bigger, softer more round. Nady notes that 2009 and 2010 actually have similar acidities, but the fruit hides this to some extent on the ‘09s. The Bourg is darker but not opaque, with sandalwood, bark, and black fruit on the nose. It’s big and rich on the palate (in this context), and the fruit cushions significant tannin on the long finish. I think this needs quite a bit of time.
The 2008 Poyeux is much leaner and more structured. Not friendly now, but IMO fun in 10 years. Nice of him to open one—it saves me trying any of mine for a good while. The 2008 Bourg is in step, with a very limestone feel to the tannins; it’s lean but clean. Put it away. Nady comments that 2008 had similarities to 2010 for them, though the summer was cooler. Frost in spring cut yields, but they had good harvest conditions.
The 2006 Bourg is starting to get going—NF feels that the tannins are rounding out, that you could start to drink it if you carafe it. I would be inclined to wait a few more years, personally. He mentions that the older the bottle the less he likes to decant—he’d prefer to pour slowly. The carafe is too much of a shock for old wines. I wish I had some of his wines that were old enough that I would worry about this.
He spares me another infanticide by opening 2005 Bourg for us. Quite dark and primary, but clean and fruity. Powerful but balanced, excellent acidity, the tannins are ripeish but plentiful; this is remarkable stuff. Glad to have some. But it’s not for anytime soon.
The 2010 Brézé (dry Saumur blanc) had been in bottle for a month. The barrels were 20% new, as he does a 5 year rotation for the white. The wine is leesy, rich, has some wood on the nose, but wow, faboo. Great acidity, tastes dry, an endless finish, a classic version of this somewhat eccentric wine. The 2009 is 14%. NF feels it’s a bit disjointed now, and I accept that. It shows a bit of heat, and it’s a bit odd. This site has more clay than the Bourg, it’s a cooler soil, he feels that chenin likes that. The 2006 Brézé is still showing wood, but Nady thinks it is coming into drinking now. Remarkable stuff despite the wood. I would note parenthetically that I opened a 1997 Brézé recently and it was still very leesy. I felt it could still use more time. I don’t have enough experience with these whites to insist on what to do with them.
He opened 1997 Coteaux for us. 6 hl/ha, SGN, 190 g rs, 8.7 ta (!), 11.5%. 3 barrels, 3 years in NFO. Bow your heads.
Lenoir
A quick taste with Lenoir at the Dive. My understanding is that he doesn’t do an assemblage, so tastes are even more fraught. But the 2007 Chinon (bottled 10/12 after 5 years in tonneaux) is clean, pretty, has good grip and white chalky tannin on the finish. Give it some more time to settle down, but this bottle was enticing. The 2006 was a bit less seductive, showed considerably harder, and definitely needs more time in bottle. He apologized for a 2005, saying it had been banging around in his car for a couple of days, but I thought it showed very well.
Filliatreau
Back for just one morning to the original Salon des Vins de Loire after a couple of years away, I got a chance to taste with the gracious, friendly, and sharp Frédéric Filliatreau, who makes good wines in a very different idiom than the Clos Rougeard. You can find and afford them, for instance, since they are 10x the scale of the Foucault.
His 2012 Saumur blanc is a good one—ripe, bright, tasty, not opulent but clean and good. He also has a 2011 “Imago” in a fat bottle—there is a long story about grafting over very unprofitable chenin to cabernet years ago, so they now lease a vineyard, pay the owner for a regular yield, and do all the work themselves so they can have some white. This wine gets 6 hours of skin contact and half is in older oak. It gets full malo. Why do I put up with wood on the Rougeard whites but not elsewhere? Curious. But the wood on this bugs me, and I don’t love it. The 2012 rosé (will change name from AOC Cabernet de Saumur to rosé of Saumur, which he thinks will help in the market, soon) in cask is tasty—clean, correct nice wine, 4g rs. It is a pressed rosé (like the Baudry). They make it because they like to drink it, but they don’t make much, because it isn’t profitable.
The 2011 Petit Fouquet is from young vines in conversion to organic. Done in inox, it’s nice light stuff. The Cuvee Printemps (Ch. Fouquet, their organic arm since 1998, all by gravity, etc.) from them always shows well at the Salon. Playful, fun, primary CF, only lightly tannic, you could drink this in pitchers. The 2012 Fouquet is very spicy, light on its feet, savory on the palate, balanced but not long. The Domaine bottling has the spice but also more depth; it is pretty solid stuff. Frédéric remarks that the very small crop from all the troubles of the season gave sturdy grapes that did well despite some rain during the harvest. His crop was down 45%. The 2012 VV is clean and good but clearly doesn’t have the concentration of more favorable vintages.
The 2011 Domaine is spicy and classic, a little lean in the finish. The 2011 Ch. Fouquet is savory and a bit reduced today, medium weight, a bit closed and a bit hard in the finish. Needs time or a good carafe. The 2011 Grande Vignolle also shows a bit hard at this tasting, so similar advice. The 2011 VV will be bottled in the summer. I liked it well, but it is closed up. The 2010 VV is quite classic, in keeping with the vintage—not big and ripe, but excellent balance and length.
The Fillibulles 2012 fizz is fun. Zero SO2, zero dosage, 12.2%, 5 bar fizz.
I’ll comment later on Breton and Guion, among others, if I get the chance.
I had my first visit to Baudry this trip. I’ve been drinking the wines for ages, of course, but I had never had the chance before to visit the vineyards and cellar. It was really a treat. Bernard and Matthieu are understated guys, but my impression of them is that they are always trying to figure out incremental ways to make their wines better. The degree to which they think about things and the subtlety of each improvement help explain why you don’t see me out trying to make wine myself. People like Bernard and Matthieu remind me just how far behind the curve I would start.
My Loire red epiphany was the 1989 Grézeaux from the Baudry. I went to a sit-down tasting at a wine shop on the wines of the Loire when I was in graduate school (it was cheap). The ’89 Grézeaux made a big impression on me but horrified my fellow tasters. They found the herbal thing too prominent; they wanted more fruit; they probably even wanted less acid. I had a very different take—I thought, “Man, give me some chicken with rosemary and this will go to town.” To me, the wine was distinctive in my universe and had an obvious specific utility. I drank my last bottle last year with a famous NYC caviste who turned the bottle around and said, “I put that sticker on this bottle.” Nice. I would also mention that Bernard in particular is known for his palate and technical expertise from his days with the INAO—Marc Ollivier makes a point of tasting his wines with Bernard at the Salon every year to get his opinions, which is remarkable considering how little Melon Bernard has made.
But these guys have come a long way since that ’89 and are making better wines now than ever. They took us out to see some vineyards, but the choice was a bit constrained since it had been raining for months, ever since harvest. The Granges is a small slope, you might even call it a benchland, in the alluvial plain of the Vienne river. Frankly, the landscape reminds me a bit of Napa, except the vines are older and lower to the ground than you typically see in Napa since the big replanting. As you look up at the hillsides surrounding the river, you see that many of them are forested. Matthieu notes that there was a big expansion of the AOC in the 1970s and that the hillsides are probably excellent vineyard land that has not been worked since after the war. It is much easier to cultivate the flatlands, of course. In the Granges, they need to compost—the sandy soil is very poor. If they don’t, they get lower yields, but also find harsh tannins in the wine. They also plow or disc the top couple of inches to disrupt grass and surface roots—too much grass would take too much water away from the vines. He had a point about some of the neighbors who do “golf course vineyards” where alternate rows had grass, but the commentary eludes me now—maybe someone can chime in to remind me? We passed one on the drive.
The Baudry have a nice map of the geology of their valley on the wall in their tasting room, I took a picture and put it here.
All the Cabernet Franc has been fermented in unlined concrete since 2005. They felt that stainless was too reductive an environment and that the small oxidation through concrete gives the wines what they need. (For context, I spoke to another winemaker last week who had abandoned concrete for wood to get more air, but she was working with a more reductive cépage in the south.) Previously, they would have had to rack the wines more, add sulfur, and so on, but concrete allows them to work with less manipulation. They would in general rather bottle their wines later, but they also need to be present in the market, so for instance the Granges is bottled in May and September. They would rather do it all in September. They have experimented with 10% whole cluster but didn’t like the results. They last chaptalized in 2001.
Bizarrely, their rosé doesn’t sell well in Europe, so it’s now all for the US (hooray!). It’s some young vines of Clos Guillot and some near Les Granges. The 2012 is a fine version, zippy (still some CO2), fresh and fruity. The MLF is done, defying the local tradition of blocking malo on rosé. They think they get good balance and minerality from well-tended vines and don’t need extra acidity, and I’ve always found the balance on these wines to be excellent. The 2012 Les Granges suffered from poor flowering, but what they have is tasty, light, fruity, with moderate tannins in balance. The 2012 Les Grézeaux (from 65 y.o. vines in clay and gravel at the base of the slopes) is all in barrique. Their production was down 40% in ’12 with a bit of rain during the harvest, but the wine shows gobs of CF fruit cushioning very fine tannins. The wine is generous and lively and surprises Matthieu, who says it usually doesn’t show so well so young. The Clos Guillot (clay over yellow limestone) is also surprisingly open and lively, though as always it is a poster child for limestone minerality. The Croix Boissée hasn’t yet undergone MLF, so the acid is more prominent than it will be in the finished wine. They now keep this 2 years in barrel, up from previous 12-18 months, as they like the wine better with longer elevage. The ’12 has a lot of depth and power, as well as good chalky tannins from the white limestone. All the 2012s have alcohols between 12 and 13%. They didn’t show us the 2012 Domaine.
They had a long dry spell in 2011, which caused trouble in the sandy terroirs of Granges and Grézeaux (the Domaine has sand, but has chalk below so the vines can access more water). Since 2007 they have used a conveyor to take the grapes into the vats instead of pumping the must. Even an occasional guy like me can taste a difference in texture, a new fineness to the tannins from fewer bruised seeds. The 2011 Grézeaux is an earthier, barkier wine than some other vintages, maybe a bit like 2004. It will match different cuisine than 2009 or 2010. It will also probably need more time in bottle. The 2011 Clos Guillot shows more fruit now, it’s more ripe on the nose, and it probably did better through the drought because of the deep clay and limestone site. The Croix Boissée is fairly classic, not big and ripe, but it has good balance and big structure. Age this sucker.
The 2010s are pretty classical here; it’s a straight-up vintage. The Domaine was bottled last March after a year in concrete. The nose is beguiling now after a bit more time in bottle. It has nice light structure, good freshness, it’s pretty. The Grézeaux has more acid and zip, it’s really exciting wine, a little graphite mixed with the fruits on the nose, but it has real balance between fruit, minerality and acidity. I just bought some more. This might be another ’89, really. The limestone crunch in the tannins of the 2010 Clos Guillot is cushioned by more fruit in 2010 and proves less obvious than in leaner vintages, but Matthieu thinks it’s still there. The wine is also excellent, elegant with great equilibrium and harmony. It’s very long. The 2010 Croix Boissée is remarkable, very dark berry on the nose, unusually deep in color, but just brilliant stuff. I would say that the 2010 reds I tasted from the classic regions of the central Loire were very much my kind of wines.
We also tried a 2011 Croix Boissée blanc (as mentioned, from the top of the slope). This went through MLF to give ta of ca. 4g, so it is the limestone that gives the perception of structure. It’s savory and smoky and tasty. I am not always a huge guy for Chinon blanc, but this wine could make you believe.
Clos Rougeard
I had my first visit to Clos Rougeard in several years. Getting in there always feels a bit like getting an audience with the Pope. In addition to our group of folks from Seattle, Portland, SF, Chicago, Florida, NYC, etc., etc., there was a sommelier from some Michelin 3-star and some others who came and went in the ancient cellar. If you ask me, Nady overdoes it a bit with the spray-on cellar mold, but of course tastes vary in interior décor. After all the introductions, Nady said, “Salvador Dali had it wrong. He said the center of the universe is the train station at Perpignan, but clearly it is rather here in Chacé.” Tentative chuckles all around.
He lost a lot of grapes in 2012 in Poyeux and the Clos to hail, but had less damage to the Bourg and the white. Yields were already down from the same poor flowering that affected most everyone. This estate shouldn’t need an introduction to this crowd, but I’d mention that the Bourg gets 100% NFO, the Poyeux gets barrels that have seen one wine (mostly the Bourg, but for 2 years), and the Clos barrels that have seen one or two wines. He feels the essential thing in barrels is to leave the wood out in the weather for at least 4-5 years before use, and that various commercial efforts to accelerate that interval generally give a poor product. He has his barrels made locally to his spec. The production here in a typical vintage is “0-30,000 bottles.” Zero being 1991. 2012 is presumably on the smaller end of that range. He didn’t show us any 2012s.
I mentioned elsewhere that these guys don’t have bad vintages, only different ones, and I believe it. I can think of two wines in the last decade from them that I really didn’t love, and even those you could drink.
He described 2011 as rainy and cool, with a good September. Definitely lighter than 2009 and 2010. The Poyeux has a barky CF nose, refreshing acidity, medium length, medium-light body, and fine tannins. Totally successful light vintage. The Bourg has sweet oak on the nose (though that usually moderates with another year of élevage), good fruit, medium weight, and a longer finish. These vines are roughly 70 years old.
The 2010s were bottled on the day of our visit, but they showed well. He assembles 3 months ahead of bottling. The Clos includes anything he doesn’t bottle as Bourg or Poyeux. 2010 is a bigger and more structured vintage, with higher acidity. The tannins have softened a bit, but the wine is quite classic. He will sell the ‘10s after another year in bottle. The Poyeux is more complex, with deeper fruit, and is perhaps a bit softer. The Poyeux has more sand than the Bourg’s classic clay, but they share similar white tuffeau underneath. He feels the wines have similar longevity, that the Poyeux is more elegant, but thinks they just have different styles. But this Poyeux is classic. The 2010 Bourg is less open on the nose, but you can taste the hidden depth. Bigger in the mouth, much more tannic, with a long savory finish, this is memorable stuff. It’s pretty, but finishes with real grip.
The 2009s are less typique, with more gras. Riper wines overall. The Poyeux is starting to have some bottle flavors appear, but it is much more plush than 2010, bigger, softer more round. Nady notes that 2009 and 2010 actually have similar acidities, but the fruit hides this to some extent on the ‘09s. The Bourg is darker but not opaque, with sandalwood, bark, and black fruit on the nose. It’s big and rich on the palate (in this context), and the fruit cushions significant tannin on the long finish. I think this needs quite a bit of time.
The 2008 Poyeux is much leaner and more structured. Not friendly now, but IMO fun in 10 years. Nice of him to open one—it saves me trying any of mine for a good while. The 2008 Bourg is in step, with a very limestone feel to the tannins; it’s lean but clean. Put it away. Nady comments that 2008 had similarities to 2010 for them, though the summer was cooler. Frost in spring cut yields, but they had good harvest conditions.
The 2006 Bourg is starting to get going—NF feels that the tannins are rounding out, that you could start to drink it if you carafe it. I would be inclined to wait a few more years, personally. He mentions that the older the bottle the less he likes to decant—he’d prefer to pour slowly. The carafe is too much of a shock for old wines. I wish I had some of his wines that were old enough that I would worry about this.
He spares me another infanticide by opening 2005 Bourg for us. Quite dark and primary, but clean and fruity. Powerful but balanced, excellent acidity, the tannins are ripeish but plentiful; this is remarkable stuff. Glad to have some. But it’s not for anytime soon.
The 2010 Brézé (dry Saumur blanc) had been in bottle for a month. The barrels were 20% new, as he does a 5 year rotation for the white. The wine is leesy, rich, has some wood on the nose, but wow, faboo. Great acidity, tastes dry, an endless finish, a classic version of this somewhat eccentric wine. The 2009 is 14%. NF feels it’s a bit disjointed now, and I accept that. It shows a bit of heat, and it’s a bit odd. This site has more clay than the Bourg, it’s a cooler soil, he feels that chenin likes that. The 2006 Brézé is still showing wood, but Nady thinks it is coming into drinking now. Remarkable stuff despite the wood. I would note parenthetically that I opened a 1997 Brézé recently and it was still very leesy. I felt it could still use more time. I don’t have enough experience with these whites to insist on what to do with them.
He opened 1997 Coteaux for us. 6 hl/ha, SGN, 190 g rs, 8.7 ta (!), 11.5%. 3 barrels, 3 years in NFO. Bow your heads.
Lenoir
A quick taste with Lenoir at the Dive. My understanding is that he doesn’t do an assemblage, so tastes are even more fraught. But the 2007 Chinon (bottled 10/12 after 5 years in tonneaux) is clean, pretty, has good grip and white chalky tannin on the finish. Give it some more time to settle down, but this bottle was enticing. The 2006 was a bit less seductive, showed considerably harder, and definitely needs more time in bottle. He apologized for a 2005, saying it had been banging around in his car for a couple of days, but I thought it showed very well.
Filliatreau
Back for just one morning to the original Salon des Vins de Loire after a couple of years away, I got a chance to taste with the gracious, friendly, and sharp Frédéric Filliatreau, who makes good wines in a very different idiom than the Clos Rougeard. You can find and afford them, for instance, since they are 10x the scale of the Foucault.
His 2012 Saumur blanc is a good one—ripe, bright, tasty, not opulent but clean and good. He also has a 2011 “Imago” in a fat bottle—there is a long story about grafting over very unprofitable chenin to cabernet years ago, so they now lease a vineyard, pay the owner for a regular yield, and do all the work themselves so they can have some white. This wine gets 6 hours of skin contact and half is in older oak. It gets full malo. Why do I put up with wood on the Rougeard whites but not elsewhere? Curious. But the wood on this bugs me, and I don’t love it. The 2012 rosé (will change name from AOC Cabernet de Saumur to rosé of Saumur, which he thinks will help in the market, soon) in cask is tasty—clean, correct nice wine, 4g rs. It is a pressed rosé (like the Baudry). They make it because they like to drink it, but they don’t make much, because it isn’t profitable.
The 2011 Petit Fouquet is from young vines in conversion to organic. Done in inox, it’s nice light stuff. The Cuvee Printemps (Ch. Fouquet, their organic arm since 1998, all by gravity, etc.) from them always shows well at the Salon. Playful, fun, primary CF, only lightly tannic, you could drink this in pitchers. The 2012 Fouquet is very spicy, light on its feet, savory on the palate, balanced but not long. The Domaine bottling has the spice but also more depth; it is pretty solid stuff. Frédéric remarks that the very small crop from all the troubles of the season gave sturdy grapes that did well despite some rain during the harvest. His crop was down 45%. The 2012 VV is clean and good but clearly doesn’t have the concentration of more favorable vintages.
The 2011 Domaine is spicy and classic, a little lean in the finish. The 2011 Ch. Fouquet is savory and a bit reduced today, medium weight, a bit closed and a bit hard in the finish. Needs time or a good carafe. The 2011 Grande Vignolle also shows a bit hard at this tasting, so similar advice. The 2011 VV will be bottled in the summer. I liked it well, but it is closed up. The 2010 VV is quite classic, in keeping with the vintage—not big and ripe, but excellent balance and length.
The Fillibulles 2012 fizz is fun. Zero SO2, zero dosage, 12.2%, 5 bar fizz.
I’ll comment later on Breton and Guion, among others, if I get the chance.
