Sharon Bowman
Sharon Bowman
Sometimes it's a good thing to see where the things we don't like to drink are drifting. At least that's what I tell myself, having had a glass of NV Duval-Leroy Brut yesterday.
Duval-Leroy is a champagne house located in Vertus, the southernmost village of the Côte des Blancs and the only possessed of a bit of pinot noir. D-L wants to be a "lifestyle" brand under the leadership of its media savvy-ish leading lady.
I kept being like, "Think of Vertus..." as I sipped it. But of course who knows where the grapes were from and how they were grown. This type of concern is all about the polished words and vague aspirational phrasings. I have no idea how it was made, and frankly, neither does it.
It was utterly blank. Just a blank. A placeholder. Champagne it was.
Helped me see why so many people don't like champagne. And why the good ones are doing something special.
A bottle of 2009 Larmandier-Bernier Terre de Vertus last week was a striking example of this. As was an electrifying 2009 Lahaye Jardin de la Grosse Pierre. That I would give my arm for.
This was just humdrum, like sitting in an overheated club room with fusty old Britons or something.
Anyone else have an enlightening moment with an unexpected wine?
Duval-Leroy is a champagne house located in Vertus, the southernmost village of the Côte des Blancs and the only possessed of a bit of pinot noir. D-L wants to be a "lifestyle" brand under the leadership of its media savvy-ish leading lady.
I kept being like, "Think of Vertus..." as I sipped it. But of course who knows where the grapes were from and how they were grown. This type of concern is all about the polished words and vague aspirational phrasings. I have no idea how it was made, and frankly, neither does it.
It was utterly blank. Just a blank. A placeholder. Champagne it was.
Helped me see why so many people don't like champagne. And why the good ones are doing something special.
A bottle of 2009 Larmandier-Bernier Terre de Vertus last week was a striking example of this. As was an electrifying 2009 Lahaye Jardin de la Grosse Pierre. That I would give my arm for.
This was just humdrum, like sitting in an overheated club room with fusty old Britons or something.
Anyone else have an enlightening moment with an unexpected wine?