Eric Asimov, in a recent post, surveys the early critical reaction to 2006 Bordeaux ("somewhat mixed" but "pretty good") and the by now well rehearsed reasons why the vintage's claret will not be a great buy for the American consumer. Asimov reserves his greatest enthusiasm, however, for the promising reports about vintage's dry white Bordeaux, which he calls "sort of an anachronistic wine" but one that "really ought to get more respect." 2006 was, by all accounts, an outstanding vintage for the region's dry whites, and Neal Martin, among others, has called the whites from Pessac "fabulous."
Dry white Bordeaux, blended from Semillon and Sauvignon blanc, is too often a neglected wine, overshadowed by the world class sweet white and dry red wines from its own region, as well as more popular dry whites, like Chardonnay, worldwide. Yet if you have never tasted a dry white Bordeaux, I can almost guarantee you have never had anything quite like it. The best examples of dry white Bordeaux combine the crisp acidity and tropical fruits of Sauvignon blanc with the richness and unique, waxy texture of Semillon. It is a wine that is weighty and, with some age, carries complex non-fruit notes while not sacrificing freshness. It pairs excellently with fish and seafood dishes of all kinds, and provides a great alternate pairing with foie gras, for those not wanting a sweet wine.
Asimov lists Haut-Brion, Laville Haut-Brion, and Domaine de Chevalier as his top tier of dry white Bordeaux, and to that list I'm almost tempted to add "Y", the dry white wine from the fabled Chateau d'Yquem. "Y" is somewhat of a rarity, as it has been produced in only 23 vintages since 1959 and carries a unique fascination as being the product of the same estate that produces the world's most famous, and most expensive, dessert wine. While "Y" may not quite reach the heights of Haut-Brion blanc or Laville Haut-Brion, the 2000 "Y", which I tasted last year, was everything one wants in a dry white Bordeaux -- graceful and uncannily poised, with crisp, even slightly exotic, fruit flavors balanced by a richness of texture and a roundness of body. A wine of class and understated beauty, with a touch of that special Yquem magic.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
In Praise of White Bordeaux
Pinot Pressures
Yet another unfortunate consequence of that detestable movie whose name shall not be mentioned on this site (although I suppose I ought to have consulted my co-blogger before saying that) is that it has encouraged all sorts of people to decide that they want to drink wines made from pinot noir. This is despite their not actually liking the sort of wines that pinot most lends itself to and traditionally has produced the most sublime examples of. The result has been the production of a lot of pinot-based wines that taste as much as possible like bad cabernet. The Kosta Browne Simon wrote about a few days ago is a good example of this trend.
But that's not to say that all California pinot noir is like this. Eric Asimov has an article in today's New York Times reviewing some pinots from the Santa Barbara area, and his recommendations are definitely worth checking out. Asimov was "pleasantly surprised by how many wines seemed balanced and somewhat restrained." I'm not all that surprised. While California has a lot of bad pinots, there are lots of little wineries committed to making great ones (more on that in later posts). I also suspect that there's some selection bias going on here. These NYT tasting panels have to be choosing the wines they review pretty carefully, and they certainly have the expertise to be doing a good job. I'd be interested to know how, in preparing for a tasting like this (where they not only want to review specific wines but also to give an overview of Santa Barbara pinot), they balance giving a comprehensive overview with choosing wines that are likely to be worth recommending.
Wedding Bells and Bubbly
This morning's Washington Post features a pleasant write-up about Champagne (and sparkling wine alternatives) to serve for that very special reception on that very special day. I've always thought it a waste to spend tens of thousands of dollars serving Dom Perignon and classified Bordeaux at weddings (money better spent on crowding-pleasing premium beer and liquor), and horror stories abound of wine aficionados serving this or that cult wine only to have someone's second cousin pound a bottle in fifteen minutes.
Of course, a way around that problem is to follow Richard Nixon's example and hoard the good stuff at the head table (at state dinners, Nixon would have red wine served blind in decanters, allowing him to enjoy Chateau Margaux in secret while his guests drank California cabernet). While this brand of Nixonian paranoia might not be to all tastes, the Post reports that some DC-area chefs have started off their parties serving vintage Champagne for a smaller circle (1996 Bollinger Grande Annee -- outstanding stuff -- for Notti Bianche's Brendan Cox and his wife Leslie) while pouring lesser sparkling wines (Bisol Prosecco) for the rest of the night.
The article, written by Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg, rightly points out that some of the best values in sparkling wine come from the lesser-known Champagne houses and the region's smaller growers. One of the best champagnes I have ever had came from one of the article's recommended houses, Duval-Leroy. The 1996 "Femme de Champagne" (pictured above; $65 for 500 ml) from Duval-Leroy exudes sheer luxury and class. It boasts an extraordinarily complex nose of floral aromas, white fruit, and pain grille, with hints of cheese and nuttiness, and on the palate it is incredibly poised with elegant fruit flavors. While I won't say it's batting in the same league as the 1996 Dom, for half the price the Duval-Leroy gives almost as much drinking pleasure.
Champagne is an outlier among the major French wine regions in that it is dominated by big houses like Moet, Bollinger, and Pol Roger rather than terroir-driven estates and producers. In the world of Champagne, corporate branding is much more important than the name of a grower or a vineyard (hence the easy pop references to Cris and Dom P). Yet almost perversely, this corporate dominance often creates a favorable situation for the consumer. For the sake of competition, the big houses tend to hold prices, particularly for their entry level cuvees, at a certain point, and therefore smaller growers and producers can't raise their prices above that level. Yet because the little guys aren't spending millions and millions on glitzy advertising campaigns, they almost always represent superior value -- you're paying for the grapes rather than ads in Vanity Fair.