The motivation required to hike the Côte d'Or
On a recent trip to Burgundy in
France
I found myself on a voyage of both exploration and reflection. My need to
understand this complex wine region extends well beyond what others have
written or what my own tasting notes reflect. In order to explain the
complexity of Burgundy to enthusiastic newcomers, one must stand at the foot
of these great vineyards and stare upon the contour of the land, watch the
clouds as they form over the tree-topped hills, and touch the stone-walled
cellars that have held bottles for centuries of passing vintages. The trip
was truly an enlightenment of wine fascination and as a friend pointed out
after the fact, a pilgrimage.
I enjoy wine from every grape growing region in the
world, some more than others but I also appreciate the variations in aroma,
body, and taste that each country and region has to offer. Occasionally that
difference is rather blatant, other times less so, but in every example it
is (or should be) unique. This constant variable is what has kept me
motivated. If all wines were to taste the same, I'd likely drink something
else - or figure out how to make my own.
The region that I continually
gravitate toward is the Côte d'Or in France.
The 'Golden Slope' is the main body of Burgundy and its Pinot Noir and Chardonnay
are my choices for dinner more often than not.
Burgundy is a place that in
terms of both theory and taste, I know very well. But in order to satisfy
my own sense of fulfillment, I feel compelled to visit the source of these
wines, to walk along the twisted vineyard roads, taste the fruit straight
from the vine, and sample local wines as I make my way from one village to
the next.
For the same reason that people are
drawn to the mysteries of Stonehenge, China's
Great Wall, or Easter Island in the south
Pacific, I was looking for answers to a number of questions:
What is it that makes this place unique? Could it just be a gross
exaggeration as a result of perception? Why should I or anyone else pay
such a premium to enjoy it?
I found the answers that I was looking for plus a few
more along the way and I'd like to share my thoughts and observations with
you over the next couple of posts.
Thinking back to a little over a
decade ago, I too was discouraged by Burgundy's
complex label language, classification system, and degree of vintage
variation. The region is a double-edged sword of sorts; to the serious wine
enthusiast it might represents vinous perfection, but as a new comer, the
labels are next to impossible to understand and if you dare to 'cheap-out'
on your purchase, disappointment is certain. Unfortunately that
disappointment often leads to discouragement which in terms of wine
selection tends to guide people back to the path of least resistance i.e. Australia, California,
and the slopes of South America.
So why bother? In my case, the need to explore the
unknown will always demand immediate attention. Your attraction to this
place and its wine may be entirely different.
My first experience with Burgundy was highly atypical, somewhat lucky,
and extremely positive; it involved a bottle of 1999 Vosne-Romanée. The
bottle, while seemingly impressive, was an impulse buy while out of town.
The luck factor is that there is no (or should not be any) bad wine made in
the village of Vosne Romanée;
I had no comprehension of that at the time, and had it been Vougeot or
Volnay, the outcome may have been quite different. The key to buying good Burgundy is to know not only the village and
vintage, but also the vineyard if applicable, and more importantly the
producer or domaine that has made the wine. After serving the 1999 Domaine
Misset, Vosne-Romanée les Barreaux as an alternative to the richer and more
full-bodied styles of Shiraz and Amarone that
normally accompany dinner at our home, the Burgundy created a bizarre moment of silence
in the room. Each person at the table simultaneously stopped,
took a moment to stare at their glass, and then asked what it was that we
were drinking and where it was from.
Beyond "It's Pinot Noir from Burgundy." I really didn't have an answer for
them. The catch, however, is that it took me numerous attempts, multiple
bottles, and hundreds of dollars to come even remotely close to recreating
that sense of awe. Now in my world, this is the recipe for fascination and
it has lead me on a continual search for that 'perfect bottle'.
The blunt truth is that most people
will not take the time to understand this and I cannot overemphasis how
critically important that is for the rest of us; Burgundy is
not mass-produced. There is by no means enough of it for everyone. In fact,
I cringe at the thought of finding a bottle of premier cru Chambolle-Musigny
on the wine list at The Keg or on the store shelf at Costco in the States.
These places sell fruit-bombs to people who rarely step outside the scope
of beverage mediocrity. A bottle of fine Burgundy in this environment would be
tragically lost. The supply of Burgundy is restricted by the structure of
the vineyard classification system and resultant land on which the vines
were planted long ago. Its complexity and rarity are also what make it
appealing to those who desire to know and are willing to spend a little
more.
The name Côte d'Or is a reflection
of the changing autumn leaves that catch the morning sun on the hills that
rise to the west - I saw it, and yes, it is truly breathtaking, though I do
find myself wondering if the golden slope more accurately relates to the
money these vines have generated for the Church over the last 1000 years.
The production and sale of wine in France has
historically translated into great wealth and after the collapse of the
Roman Empire, the Church acquired many of the prized vineyards in Burgundy through
donations from the monarchy. In the hands of the Church, these vineyards
theoretically stood a greater chance of surviving both political and hostile
transition. It was the Church that shaped and structured many of the
vineyards in the region. The wine produced and its intoxicating effect has
generated a significant amount of highly controversial income for the ‘House
of God’.
In modern times, the supply versus
demand placed on Burgundy by the western
world and now a new Asian market is unfortunately what continues to drive
the price from marginally affordable to totally unreasonable. Along a 45km
stretch of road extending between Dijon to
the north and Santenay in the hills to the south you will find the most
expensive farmland in the world. At the upper end of the quality spectrum,
the bottled wine reflects not only the spirit of the land, but its value as
well.
Burgundy is surrounded by
history, legend, and lore; it really is quite spectacular to witness in
person. Amazingly, very little has changed along this narrow band of fields
on the hillside. As you walk along the vineyard access roads and sit on the
edge of the stone walls, you quickly realize that time in the Côte d’Or has
stood still and that these good people really don’t care about what is
popular, they have little interest in the latest trends, or how many million
cases of pink fizz Champagne sold last Valentine’s Day. Such concerns don’t
enter the thought process or formula that winemakers here follow. With the
exception of a few items of convenience, they make wine in Burgundy using the same
philosophy as their ancestors did in the 18th century. Once you grasp this
concept, only then will you begin to discover the magic of the incredible
wine region.
I invite you to walk with me from
Fixin to Morey-Saint-Denis in part two of Exploring Burgundy. We'll
stop along the way to taste the fruits of the land.
read part 2 -
Dijon to Gevrey-Chambertin
