Burgundians favor low hanging fruit

In Burgundy, the fruit hangs low.

This is a First Growth (premier cru) vineyard just above the village of Gevrey Chambertin, the namesake of the largest appellation in Burgundy Cote de Nuits.

This is that same First Growth vineyard above Gevrey Chambertin. The vines stand just above the hips of that good looking Latvian-American, who at 5'7" and shrinking, is no giant.

On the plus side, growing the fruit so low to the ground allows the rocky soil to give off ripening heat during the cool nights.

On the negative side, moist soil could provide the perfect culture for grape diseases and rot.

With the fruit hanging so low, harvesting is no easy task in this Village Level vineyard just outside of Gevrey Chambertin. Notice the pickers in the foreground stooped over and on their knees. They are so relieved to stand up to dump their grapes into the carrier's bin.

The variety of characters seen during harvest in Givrey Chambertin provide visual entertainment.

For the most part, in 2012, the rain and moisture held off long enough so that the fungal spores did not get a chance to develop until after harvest. So low hanging fruit was a plus.

We discovered Chandonnay with the bones of Mary Magdalene

My wife Eddi and I decided to take the back roads from Gevrey-Chambertin to Chinon in the Loire Valley. We got lost winding through small villages, found huge chateaux not listed on any guide books and stumbled upon the bones of Mary Magdalene.

The hilltop Abby and community of Vézelay.

According to legend, near the end of the first millennium a monk brought bones of Mary Magdalene to Vézelay, France from Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume. In 1058, the Pope confirmed the genuineness of the relics, leading to an influx of pilgrims that has continued to this day.

Vézelay Abbey was also a major starting point for pilgrims on the Way of St. James to Santiago de Compostela, one of the most important of all medieval pilgrimage centers. 










In the 9th century the Benedictines were given land to build a monastery. The current Basilica was built in the 11th century. The town and the Basilica of St Magdelene are designated UNESCO World Heritage sites.

Bernard of Clairvaux preached the Second Crusade at Vézelay in 1146. In 1189, the Frankish and English factions of the Third Crusade met at Vézelay before officially departing for the Holy Land.

Today, Vézelay is a commune in the Yonne department in Burgundy.  Bourgogne Vézelay is the local wine appellation. Vineyards descend to the edge of the town and produce a range of mostly white wines, mainly on the Chardonnay, Melon de Bourgogne  and, of course, Pinot Noir.

Today the town is swarming with pilgrims—some would call them tourists—still seeking. Seeking what?  Well, I'm not exactly sure what they are seeking as they sit in the outdoor cafes sipping local Chardonnay. Surely this could not be the beginning of a new Crusade?

Reflection on history and my cousin's death

A few days after we arrived in France, we get a i-Phone call at 2:34 in the morning. The caller ID said it was my cousin John in Napa. He only emails. He never calls. So I answered even though I knew it would cost me $19.95 per minute.  Cousin Dave answered. Dave's news: his brother, my cousin, had just died. Didn't know the cause. Cousin John was 58; I'm 64. He's dead. I'm in France.

His death colored my thoughts through the rest of France. When visiting the large chateaus, I thought about how most of us live simple lives which will be forgotten in a generation or two. Most of us will never become famous. Even though we live the best we can, history will quickly erase us.

Somehow I found myself photographing lots of cemeteries for the rest of the trip. Was that my meditation on history and death?

Gevrey Chambertin village cemetery seen across Premier Crus Petits Cazetiers vineyard. I like the idea that there has been a vineyard and village here for at least a 1000 years, probably longer.

Oregon Wine Photographer measures Burgundy Vines

After the initial awe seeing the grands curs vineyards in Burgundy, it struck me how low the vines were. Some of the grape clusters were nearly on the ground.

Two things to notice in this Village-level vineyard in Gevrey-Chambertin: 1) check how old those vines are 2) check out how low those clusters hang.

So, I'm not a tall guy, but those vines come barely over my hips. I'm sure glad I don't have to pick those grapes. You nearly need to lay down to pick. No wonder some of the older workers are so hunched over.

New Light on Chinese-owned Chateau Gevrey Chambertin

Now with Chinese-businessman ownership, does the beautiful evening light on Chateau Gevrey Chambertin in historic Burgundy, France, mean a new dawn for the run- down structure?

French peek inside Chinese-owned Burgundy chateau

This is the group that could not be accommodated  at the 16:30 (4:30PM for USAers) tour and had to wait for one and one-half hours to peek inside the Chateau. The cheerful guide was accommodating enough to take us in, even though the last scheduled tour went in ahead of us stragglers. You should have seen the 8:30 Sunday line.

The lines at the upper part of Gevrey-Chambretin village were surprisingly long this past weekend, September 15 and 16, for peek-inside tours of the newly Chinese-owned Chateau Gevrey Chambertin. Casual me, I miscalculated the local interest. I waited until Saturday afternoon to find the lines stretching 50-people long and had to wait until a later tour as the guide could not accommodate all the French locals ahead of me. 

Finally, got in for the surprise inside.  Tours were scheduled every one and one-half hours. Even the Sunday 8:30 am tour was crowded.

Maison Joseph Drouhin hides 3-acre cellar under Beaune, Burgundy

This is an unused portion of the hidden cellar.

Mason Joseph Drouhin has a 3-acre cellar built in the 1200s, catacombing under the city of Beaune. According the Jean-Pierre Cropsal, the winery's public relations officer, much of the building material is actually recycled from centuries previously. That's old and hidden under the city. It hasn't been until a couple of months ago that the winery allowed tourists into the cellar.

Here, aging under layers of mold, is a library of wines dating back to at least the 1980s. Many of the bottles and barrels are probably older, but I couldn't read the signs for the layers of fluffy mold.

Jean-pierre Cropsal pouring some Drouhin Burgundy in the hidden cellar. He says that the recycled stones surrounding him were placed in the 1200s.

Will Chinese investors cause a Great Wall in Burgundy?

Overlooking the village of Gevrey-Chambertin, parts of Chateau de Gevrey Chambertin date from the 12th century. Along with the Chateau, Ng's purchase includes two hectares (five acres) of vines which include small plots of the Grand Cru and Premier Cru ‘Chambertin’ vineyards, with the rest generic Gevrey-Chambertin.

When it was reported last month that Macau businessman Louis Ng Chi Sing bought Burgundy’s rundown Chateau de Gevrey Chambertin, some locals declared it a national travesty. 

Jean-Michel Guillon, president of the union of Gevrey-Chambertin wine producers, reportedly asked: "How would the Chinese feel if a French investor bought 10 metres, or 50 metres, of the Great Wall of China?"

Actually, this isn't the first sale of Burgundy to Asians. Ten years ago, a Japanese sommelier, Koji Nakada, set up Maison Lou Dumont in Burgundy's Nuits-Saint-Georges area, and more recently, 28-year-old Chinese businessman Shi Yi bought 2 Burgundian hectars. And, at last count, Chinese have bought about 20 Bordeaux properties.  

Regardless, patriotic Guillon led a syndicate to buy the chateau for €5m. Opps, the Chinese foreigner Louis Ng paid €8m. 

The bigger long term concern is: there go the property values, but not down as in the past few years, rather sky-high up.

Realistically the sale price will affect inheritance taxes. France has complex inheritance laws dating from Napoleon's time and also is desperately strapped for Euros. The high sales price will affect future inheritances. Many worry that foreigners buying properties for these high prices will leave French families with no option but to sell, as they can't afford the taxes to pass it on to younger generations.

So, as property prices go up and inheritance taxes force Burgundians not to be able to pass property down to children, will Burgundy become a clos—the French term for a walled vineyard used to protect the grapes from theft as well as improving the micro-climate—surrounded by a Great Wall to the French? 

 

Obviously, the chateau is in poor condition. Ng has mentioned that he plans to restore it starting in a couple of years.

Monks divide Burgundy at Oregon's International Pinot Noir Celebration

If you you had a magnifying glass for the fine print identifying the wines in the photograph, you would read that all the wines we sampled at the "Study Abroad in Burgundy" session at Oregon's International Pinot Noir Celebration in McMinnville are either Premier or Grand Cru wines. That means they represent the best Burgundy has to offer. It was a shame to spit, but it was 9:00 a.m..

At my very first session at the International Pinot Noir Celebration, I learned it was the monks who divided Burgundy into wine growing regions hundreds of years ago. The IPNC session was "Study Abroad in Burgundy".

Those Cistercian Monks first appeared on the European scene nearly a 1000 years ago.  They built their first abbey at Cîteaux (Latin Cistercium, hence "Cistercian") near Nuits-Saint-Georges.  It just happeed that several of the wines we tasted in the IPNC Burgundy session had roots in the region. It felt like I was tasting history.

As they grew grapes and made wine, those monks kept great records, according to moderator Allen Meadows, who spends 4 months a year in Burgundy when he visits more than 300 domaines and publishes Burghound.com—an e-newsletter specializing in Burgundy. Those monks started to notice that the wine from one parcel tasted different from the next, sometimes from adjacent plots. 

Fortunately, they planted lots of Pinot noir, the most terroir transparent of grapes, says Meadows. He claims the monks were tasting differences in terroir, in geography, in soil, in temperature.


The monks attributed the taste differences to God. For those pious monks, Pinot noir was only the messenger, not the message.


Regardless, those monks prospected for terroir. They planted vines everywhere but only kept those that were the most interesting. And they took meticulous notes, keeping volumes of hand-written records. So now Burgundy has hundreds of years of history of knowing what will grow best where.

Thus today, Burgundy is divided into many different appellations, sometimes covering only a single vineyard. In fact, Meadows said there were some 1600 different "climats"—a term unique to Burgundy which designates each plot or group of plots of vines which have been known under the same name for several centuries.


In the end, Meadows and the 5 Burgundian panelist—Bertrand Ambroise from Maison Ambroise, Cyril Audoin of Domaine Charles Audoin, Philippe and Vincent Lécheneaut of Domaine Lécheneaut and Jacques Lardière of Maison Louis Jadot—seemed to agree with the historic monks: Pinot noir was the messenger of Burgundy terroir.

Thank you monks. Thank you God.