Boundary agreements are the stuff of novels

Aug 15 2008 by Jane Hall, The Journal

WINES from European countries are usually described according to where they come from – Rioja, Chablis or Chianti.

Most other countries give prime billing to the grape variety from which the wine is made, with the region of production very much in second place, for example, Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough, New Zealand.

In France the perceived quality of the wine depends on the reputation of the place it came from, followed by that of the person who made it. So a bottle of Chablis made by a really top grower like William Fèvre will set you back a lot more than one made by my friend Marcel Giraudon (though Marcel’s wine is very good indeed).

The French fascination with site and soil (which together they like to call “terroir”) often means that better vineyards are differentiated by terms such as “premier cru” or “grand cru”. These are notoriously inexact terms, but the wine from the seven traditionally best sites in Chablis sold as “grand cru” is the most expensive from the region, followed by that from the 30 or so premiers crus. The size and extent of every grand and premier cru in Burgundy is mapped out meticulously and many forests-worth of books have been written in an attempt to describe the unique character of each site and its wine.

The process by which the boundaries of these sites have come to be agreed is the stuff of novels. When attempts were made to change some of those in Chablis a generation ago, two rival teams of vignerons featured in mad car chases aided by new-fangled “walkie-talkies”. One lot even hired a helicopter, for reasons that now seem totally absurd, before they all sat down together for a long lunch and much good Chablis – and agreed a compromise plan.

The good folk of Montagny in southern Burgundy came up with a different and decidedly sneaky solution – though one that had distinctly egalitarian appeal. They ruled that any of their wines that reached an agreed alcoholic strength could be labelled “premier cru”. For years, plain Montagny that wasn’t “premier cru” was a real collector’s item. Eventually they were prevailed upon to make up their minds and decide which sites were really worthy of premier cru status.

People from Montagny are expansive and generous. They chose 49 premiers crus – roughly two thirds of the whole vineyard. No one was fooled by this masterstroke, and no one really minds either, because the wines of Montagny, premier cru or not, are among the best buys in the whole of Burgundy.

A couple of generations ago, the rolling hillsides behind the four villages which make up the Montagny appellation used to be planted with black Gamay grapes to make light wine to slake the thirst of steel workers and miners in le Creusot and Montceau les Mines, less than 20 miles away. These days, Montagny is uniquely a white wine, made from Chardonnay grapes.

One of the best examples, and certainly the best value, is made by the superb Co-op at Buxy (one of the four villages) from old vines from sites other than the 49 premiers crus. In the UK it’s sold under the “Blason de Bourgogne” label and is available in most big supermarkets. In a recent trawl around Tyneside I found examples from the last three vintages. The Co-op provided the hottest bargain. They offer the 2006 and 2005 (if you’re lucky) vintages at just £5.99.

The 2005 is super white Burgundy by any standard. It has a rich, intriguing mineral salts intensity, with ripe apple-like fruit. The 2006 (also in Majestic, but at £7.99) is fatter, and richer, but lingers far less long. The 2007 (£6.99 in Tesco, then “at half price”) has a gloriously scented smell of ripe melon and hazelnuts, with a crisp, slightly lemony flavour.

Other wines from the Côte Chalonnaise, of which Montagny is the most southerly district – Bouzeron (uniquely from the Aligoté grape), Rully, Mercurey and Givry – compete keenly with Montagny to provide the best bargains in Burgundy. Wine from these other villages includes a number from a handful of carefully chosen and much-prized premier cru sites.

The folk of Givry have a uniquely modest marketing tag for all that they make: “The king of wines and the wine of kings.”

The king in question was Henri IV of France, but it seems that he professed to like them only because his mistress owned a vineyard in Givry – and she much preferred the rich wines of neighbouring Mercurey. Please don’t mention this in Givry.

Red wines rule the roost

THE biggest part of Burgundy’s Côte Chalonnaise is Mercurey. Red wines rule there. The best are quite glorious, as I discovered at a bumper tasting in the village back in the spring.

Louis Max’s Clos La Marche 2005 (Tesco, £13.99) is a big, gutsy glass of red Burgundy, with ripe black fruit flavours and a wonderfully silky texture. But if you’re lucky enough to see it, snap up any Mercurey made by the Domaine A and P de Villaine – it’s fabulous stuff.

Michel Sarrazin is one of my favourite growers in the Côte Chalonnaise. His Givry, in particular, is terrific, but even his “basic” red Burgundy (Bourgogne Rouge ) 2006 (Majestic, £8.99) shows how wine from a “lesser” region can punch above its weight in the hands of a talented wine maker.

The Buxy Co-op is no slouch in terms of getting the very best out of each vineyard as their red Côte Chalonnaise, Château de Cray 2002 (Majestic, £8.99) shows. (The 2003 has now arrived in some stores, but snap up any remaining bottles of the excellent 2002).

It’s a wonderfully satisfying bottle of red Burgundy, with scented red fruits and just a hint of toasty oak.

Wine of the week

Saint-Véran 2006 "Les Omberelles", Rothbury Wines, £8.84. Dry white Burgundy (Chardonnay) from near Mâcon, with a peach, melon and pineapple smell and a soft, but juicy flavour. Ideal with white fish, or with a chicken salad.