Random Whites Roundup, February 2011

Now it's time to cover some whites I drank recently.

Ilarria Irouléguy Blanc 2009
This white Irouléguy, a 50/50 blend of organically grown petit manseng and petit courbu, is one reason why I'll be posting more soon-ish on the wines of Southwestern France. It starts with tropical fruit on the nose (guava, passion fruit) and then, intriguingly, it goes all orchardy on the palate, showing crisp white fleshed fruit and grass/straw/herb characteristics. Bee sting acidity is nicely intertwined with minerals and a fleshy yet tightly coiled body that's very dry, even austere. This has superb length and self-confidence, but it's somehow unshowy to boot. I should have bought more! Fun fact: petit courbu is the same grape as Txakoli's hondarribi zuri.

Stéphane Tissot Savagnin Arbois 2004
Hmmm, not entirely sure about this Tissot. I get full fathom five brine, acidity that lashes the tongue like a cat o' nine tails, nuts clattering across the counter, lemon pith — yes, this is forceful rather than delicate, and it showed better on the second night, as it has relaxed somewhat. Still, it's awfully aggressive. I'm not your go-to guy on all things Jura but I like Montbourgeau's more delicate expressions of oxidized whites more, although perhaps this just needed more time (or less, not sure).

Brick House Chardonnay Ribbon Ridge 2008
Oaked New World chardonnays rarely thrill me, but this Puligny-esque effort from Oregon's Brick House almost does due to its bright acidity, well-structured flesh, creamy yet firm texture, and — the most important thing to me — its strong mineral signature, which really brings home the complexity on the finish. I wouldn't say this is lightly oaked, and for my personal tastes (and because it limits food pairing choices considerably) I would like to see less, but on a more objective level this is really very good. Also, it's far from drowning in popcorn butter. I would guess that the oak-derived flavors of nut and vanillin will be still more well-integrated in the coming years, as this has the balance for some aging.

Feelin' Groovy

I'd like to deliver a big Bronx cheer to the distributor or shop (whichever applies) for ruining not one but two bottles of 2005 Chidaine demi-secs — both were heat-damaged beyond drinking — which incidentally ruined my planned "demi-sec faceoff" post. Nevertheless, I'm feeling pretty groovy this week. Health care legislation passed, I'm planning a trip abroad, March has (excepting today) been particularly warm in Chicago, and I haven't yet been laid off from my job. In that vein, here are two wines I've had recently that I thought were pretty groovy.

i Clivi Colli Orientali del Friuli Galea 1999
Winemaker Mario Zanusso (see the controversial interview on Mondoaspore) aims to make wines that are both natural and clean, and this shows in this 10+ year old blend of Friulano and Verduzzo. This is still fresh and clean to its core but it's also, thanks to its age, on the umami side of things. I actually couldn't name any specific fruit flavors in this wine; I wouldn't say it tasted like pear, for example, or apple. The fruit's definitely there, but it's been sublimated. It's a subtle wine, fairly full on the palate, and chalky-dry. The structure here is beautiful. I paired this with a turmeric and coriander-inflected vegetable stir fry, although a lavishly-prepared pork dish with a reduction would have done the wine more justice, but both the wine and I were well-served nevertheless. A very impressive wine.

Domaine Gros Frère et Soeur Bourgogne Hautes Côtes de Nuits Blanc 2004
Speaking of aged whites, I really liked this white Burgundy, too. It's not often that you see an Hauts Cotes de Nuits blanc in the US, or at least not in Chicago, but here it is. The domaine has a rep for making quite oaky reds, but this blanc is nice. It shows flowers, brown spices, and just a hint of vanillin oak on the nose. More spice crops up on the palate, with tart pear fruit and the tiniest hint of mushroom, and it's still very fresh tasting, with terrific acidity. It's linear and focused and still shows good presence and balance across the entire palate. And there are plenty of minerals on the long finish. This one I did match with pork (dry rubbed and roasted), and it was a good match.

Winter Releases from Renaissance

Renaissance makes some of the most distinctive wines in the US as well as some of the best, and as I've written before, their terroir's signature is carved into the wines, be they red or white, in stone and spice. And yet the more I come to know Renaissance and its wines, the more I've come to learn that they will in various ways surprise me, as do their latest releases (which, disclosure, I received as a press sample).

Renaissance Chardonnay 2006
What, Renaissance makes a varietal chardonnay? Since when? And not only is this a chardonnay, it's also the most mainstream dry white Renaissance I've tasted. Not unlike many fine California chardonnays, it was aged for 9 months in a mix of new and used oak barrels, which contributes to the aromas of salted butter, toast, flowers, and tropical fruits that dominate the nose.

But before you think, "Renaissance sells out!" know that this limited production (76 case), estate grown wine was fermented solely with native yeasts and minimally sulfured. It's fine, fresh, and lively on the palate, with robust acidity, cool orchard fruit tones, and nice structure — it's not at all blowsy or fat (this clocks in at 13.6% abv and a pH of 3.3). As it warms in the glass, the cool spice and herb tones inherent in all Renaissance wines begins to emerge — albeit to a lesser degree than in, say, their Roussanne — and the long finish is enlivened by the zippy minerality. It's definitely a top-of-class California chardonnay, and it stayed very fresh and alive over three nights of tasting.

Renaissance Sauvignon Blanc Late Harvest 1992
This new release, a spicy dessert wine, is 17 years old. The nose is rich with aromas of apricots caramelized in brown sugar. It's clean and silky in the mouth, not heavy or sticky, and the robust acidity helps it stand up on the palate. Straightforward flavors of pears poached in ginger hit the mid and back palate immediately; an initial impression of modest viscosity then ebbs quickly, leaving a light but warm glow on the finish for some time. This isn't as complex or as interesting as the drier, more recently made late harvest wines that Renaissance releases, but twist my arm and I'll drink this with a pear tart.

Renaissance Cabernet Sauvignon Première Cuvée 1998
This is a fascinating wine. At the first pop of the cork this smells just like a Renaissance cabernet, with deep aromas of black currant and worcestershire, but on the palate it drinks almost like a young Barbaresco, very tannic yet somehow light. The rough edges abate somewhat with just a bit of air and the palate deepens with flavors to match the aromas. On night two, the flavor of cassis comes to the fore and the acidity is more prominent, too, although the weight has dropped and the finish is slightly thin. Black cherry and black pepper flavors come to the fore on the third night — it's a living wine, ever changing — and if the finish is still a bit short, the wine seems a touch more focused: the tannins no longer have a sweet quality, the palate is silkier and just a touch more substantive than it was the previous night, and dried herbs show up on the finish. There's plenty of structure and acidity in this baby (pH is 3.4) so while it's perfectly fine to open this now, there's no need to rush. 82% cab sauv, 7% merlot, 6% cab franc, 5% malbec.

By the by, I recently drank a bottle of the 2007 Carte d'Or white Bordeaux blend, which I last drank a year ago, and it's showing brilliantly. The melon fruit is luscious, generous, and layered with crushed white stone and gingery spice, and it was a great with the smoky, tangy, earthy flavors of middle eastern cuisine. I can't imagine anything pairing better with the smoky, umami flavors of middle eastern cuisine than any dry white from Renaissance; but now that I think about it, maybe I should consider a good cru Beaujolais...

Two Sparklers From Argyle

Dundee Hills producer Argyle makes a range of still wines but they are best known for their sparkling wines. Partly that's because few Oregon producers make sparkling wine, but Argyle's also receive a lot of acclaim of the "why-drink-Champagne-when-at-this-price" type as well as high scores in rags like the Spectre [sic].

The first thing Argyle does after pressing is store the juice at a cold temperature so it "settles" without fermenting. After a few weeks, they then innoculate with a proprietary yeast, achieve at least partial malo, age the fermented juice on its lees in barrique for at least three years, and add what tastes to me like a fairly standard level of dosage. The result, as far as my palate is concerned, is solid, consumer-friendly sparkling wine that is complete and satisfying. The wines are tasty and fairly priced, but while the two bottles I tried each had a story to tell, the story is about the vintage more than the terroir, which seems to be obscured.

2002 Argyle Brut
At Argyle, the vintage decides the blend (all their sparklers are vintage dated) and in 2002 the wine is 75% chardonnay and 25% pinot noir. This verges toward the austere, in a good way, like some Loire brut chenin that I've had. It showed a touch of heat when first opened, but that dissipated, and I got herbs and yeast on the nose. The mousse shows nice texture, and then there are herbs and citrus and pear on the firm, linear, well-structured finish. I was hoping that after 7 years this would show complexity or perhaps a mushroomy aspect, but it was not to be. This was satisfying nevertheless.

2005 Argyle Brut
Here the blend flips to 65% pinot noir and 35% chardonnay. On the nose, subtle hints of yeast march in lockstep with red fruit aromas. The palate is generous but still dry (RS clocks in at 1.2%), with a fine mousse and nice layers of strawberries, apples, pear, and dry stone. The acidity is nicely energetic, and the wine paired well with a peppery, fennel-laced vegetable soup.

I can't decide if I prefer the 2005's more generous texture or the 2002's relative austerity. I'm happy with both. Still, I would have liked to have seen greater depth and more of that Dundee Hills minerality. As I said, the wines are fairly priced at $25, but if I can find deeper and more terroir-expressive Cava and Loire sparklers at a slightly lower price — and I can — I'm in no hurry to return to Argyle's lineup.

If Acid Is Your Crack

If acid is your crack, then set down that glass of Muscadet, stuff $20 in your pocket, and find the friendly local dealer who has a bottle of the 2007 Domaine Seguinot-Bordet Chablis to sell you. "Nervous" barely begins to describe it — it's more like electric. Zap!

You may want to pick up some mussels on your way home and steam them with butter, for this is a delicate wine that's easily overwhelmed by heartier fare. For example, I tossed sauteed onion and ginger into quinoa and the wine worked well with this dish, but it got lost when I paired it with roasted vegetables (potato and carrot), even though I did a simple prep of olive oil, salt, and pepper.

That surprised me a bit, as the wine has a chalky, smoky top note of caramelized lemon peel that I thought would work well with the roasted veggies. It's also creamy on the palate — the acidity isn't tart or underripe — and rich in iodine, particularly on the long and poised finish. It also has great structure. But for all its smoky exuberance, it's definitely delicate, at least at this point in its young life.

Ho-Hum vs. Humdinger in White Burgundy

My cat may ignore white Burgundy — he prefers beer and will happily if naughtily lick the lip of any open bottle — but I do my best to keep these wines in my orbit. With Burgundy's endless numbers of producers, most of who produce wines from a large number of climats, it's difficult for me to wrap my brain around the region. So my approach is to take it slow and tackle just a few producers at a time.

Domaine Jean Touzot Mâcon-Villages Vieilles Vignes 2007
Between the vintage and the fact that this reasonably priced ($15) Mâcon is sourced from old vines, I had hopes that this wine would show good energy and character. Alas, this fell a bit flat. It's clean and unoaked and hardly fat, but there's just not a whole lot going on — it's neither energetic nor voluptuous, neither creamy nor precise. Noblet's lightly oaked Mâcon at the same price point is a much better bet, as is Thévenet's unoaked Mâcon that costs just a few bucks more.

Unfortunately, I can't find any usable information online about this producer or his methods.

Yves Boyer-Martenot Meursault Les Narvaux 2005
This is a big step up from the Touzot in neighborhood and price (close to $40), and given that it's also from a different vintage and is aged in oak, it doesn't seem quite right to pair these two reviews.

But I'm going to go with it, anyway, because while the sweet kiss of oak gives this wine notes of cream, nuts, and a hint of tropicalia, this is fabulously transparent and precise. The nice long finish of pear, lemon, coconut, and stones fades ever so slowly to a pure and clean tone of mineral and acid energy. That energy seemed to flag a bit on the second night open, but it came roaring back on nights three and four. Provided this doesn't fall prey to the dreaded prem-ox problem that reputedly afflicts too many white Burgundies, this should hold up for quite some time.

The Narvaux vineyards are high on the Meursault slope, just above the 1er cru vineyards. The Skurnik web site tells us that Yves Boyer ferments using only wild yeasts and that roughly one-third of the oak barrels are new.

WBW 55: North vs. South, Chablis vs. St. Aubin

It was difficult to meaningfully fulfill the North vs. South theme of Wine Blogging Wednesday 55. It sounds simple: Wine Case asked us to focus on "vinegrowing climate" and compare "how more northerly and more southerly vineyards produce different results with the same grapes."

And thus the challenge. If I can find a syrah from the Northern Rhône easily enough, can I find a pure syrah from the same vintage from the Languedoc or the Southern Rhône? How can I measure the effects of climate if the winemaker in the more northerly vineyard picks her grapes at much higher brix than the winemaker down south? Mesoclimate is more important than macroclimate, but even on a larger scale, everything's upside down in places like California: traveling north to south, Mendocino is warmer than Rutherford, which is warmer than Carneros, which is warmer than Santa Cruz, which is warmer than Sta. Rita Hills.

My solution was to compare somewhat similarly styled wines from the same vintage from two appellations that experience meaningful climate differences: Chablis and Saint-Aubin. Chardonnay is grown in both places but Chablis is a slightly cooler region, with July temperatures at least one degree F cooler than in the Cote d'Or. Rain is also more prevalent at harvest. (Of course, the Kimmeredgian chalk of Chablis isn't the same as Saint-Aubin's limestone, and in contrast to the Saint-Aubin the Chablis I consumed saw no oak, but let's just move forward, OK?)

2006 was a low-acid vintage in both the Cote d'Or and Chablis. If the wines weren't blowsy, they were atypically round and ripe, and men better than me say you have to choose carefully with the 2006 whites. But both these wines were successful examples of the good side of 2006.

Domaine de Chantemerle Chablis 2006
I really dug this. It has a beautiful nose of lime, orchard fruits, chalk, and smoky gray sea salt — the Chablis terroir really comes through. The wine is zesty and creamy in the mouth, but there's plenty of taut acidity to power the lemon and Fuji apple fruit to the back of the palate, leaving a pure, mineral energy in its wake. This does fade a bit quickly at midpalate but this is otherwise a complete wine. This'd be perfect with light fish.

Sylvain Langoureau Saint-Aubin 1er Cru En Remilly 2006
I admit that I drank this last summer, but I think the notes apply. This Langoureau, like the Chantemerle, is neither fat nor blowsy, and it also shows a pure minerality that really hums on the finish. Still, its frame is larger, in part because this received an artful touch of barrel toast — it's subtly smoky and nutty — and in part because the fruit is inherently more generous. The finish also shows cinnamon-inflected spice, which is quite different from the higher-toned finish of the Chantemerle.

In sum, while both wines are minerally and transparent, the Chablis shows a tautness that the Saint-Aubin does not, while the latter shows more voluptuous fruit and brown spice on the palate. One is not "better" than the other — each is excellent in its context. But the best I can tell, they do show the north-south climate difference fairly well.

Given that both wines are ultimately from northerly latitudes, it seems right to conclude with this video from Antipodean superstars The Bats. Just scroll back to the top of this post to see it — appropriate given that so much about this theme is, or can be, upside-down.

Salmon and a Mâcon

A few days ago I popped the 2007 Jean-Claude Thévenet Mâcon Pierreclos to see what was what. I promptly stoppered it: it was tighter than a bug's butt. Still, I liked the minerality I found and I figured, or at least hoped, the fruit would unfurl with a bit of oxygen.

Yesterday I decided to give it another whirl and with it in mind I stopped by a nice take-out deli, where I picked up a filet of salmon with slightly sweet chili sauce and a mushroom risotto cake. I figured, or at least hoped, that the Thévenet's body, minerality, and orchard fruit flavors would lean nicely into these medium-bodied foods.

Jean-Claude Thévenet should not be confused with the more famous Jean Thévenet of Clessé. Whereas J.T. produces some botrytized, late harvest Mâcon, our J.-C. T. produces athletic, unoaked whites that are imported by the Rosenthal cabal. As you can see from the photograph at right (which I nabbed from the Rosenthal site), the soil includes red clay marl as well as limestone. The grapes are manually harvested, fermented in stainless steel, left on their lees, and complete malolactic fermention. Given all this, you would figure, or at least hope, that the wine would be clean yet still show some creamy depth.

This Mâcon Pierreclos fulfilled my hopes. The nose sets things up nicely, with rich aromas of lemon oil, waxy yellow apple, peach, and passionfruit, but the pairing was successful because the lemony acidity, the medium-creamy body, and the well-integrated stoniness were nice foils for the oily fish, while the fruit matched the barely-spicy mango sauce. In fact, the wine itself shows just a hint of zesty spice on the finish and maybe, just maybe, a suggestion of hazelnut. And that same combination of creaminess, acidity, and minerality worked with the risotto cake.

I found the Thévenet so apt a pairing that I'm wondering what could be better with this particular preparation of salmon than an unoaked white Burgundy. A spicy Oregon pinot gris? A nice Roero Arneis? I'd love to hear your suggestions. In any case, this wine did the trick.

Speechless

My recent silence ends tonight. Back to blogging.

On a night like tonight, though, it's hard to put my feelings into words. And while I can try to find a wine for the occasion, there's no way that a wine can be as profound as Capital-H History. But I can try, right? So out comes the 2002 Mandois Blanc de Blanc Premier Cru Champagne.

This is a reserved, low-dosage vintage Champagne that at six years old is marvelously young, precise, and pure. The nose shows hazelnut, granny smith apple, and wet gravel, yet it's on the palate where the wine really shines, with a mousse that simultaneously subtle and vigorous and a finish that just goes and goes. Hints of toast and fabulous, mouthwatering acidity. Its minerally, laser-like focus unfolds in wave after wave of pure rock and delicate fruit, and in my mind compliments our new president, who is always the man we've seen him him to be, and yet who continually reveals himself to be that same person.

The wine ultimately leaves me speechless, as does this day. So I'll just say, "Here's to our future."

J.K. Carriere's 2006 Releases

After trodding the dirt on Parrett Mountain, J.K. Carriere winemaker Jim Prosser led us back to the little white barn where he makes his Willamette Valley wines. Now, I started seeing a fair amount of high-end 2006 Oregon pinot on the shelves a year ago, but Prosser prefers to wait longer than most. His early drinker, the $24 Provocateur, was released back in May, and only as of September 21 did Prosser make available his 2006 Willamette Valley Chardonnay and his standard-bearer, the 2006 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir.

Now, 2006 was the second-hottest vintage ever in Oregon and you might expect rich, opulent fruit, for that is what dominates so many 2006 Oregon pinots. This, happily, is more classic, and even downright reserved. As with all Prosser's wines this is built for age and I simply have to reserve judgment; suffice to say that the elements are here and the boysenberry and cherry fruit is nicely balanced with the acidity, the earth notes, and proper (though hardly hard) structure. I'm looking forward to popping this starting three years from now, though it might need still more time.

I'm not so reluctant to judge the Chardonnay. As I wrote yesterday, it's eerily reminiscent of a good village-level white Burgundy, and if this wine will last for (at least) five years, I'm pretty dang enthusiastic about it right now. The wine was whole cluster pressed and cold barrel fermented (using only wild yeast) in neutral oak only — so fear not, my Parkay-phobic friends, this wine will not invoke any naughty scene from Last Tango in Paris. Its fleshy round body is shot through with lovely acidity and a quiet minerality, which gives it focus, while the flavors of fresh pears are accented by brown baking spices. Prosser made but 90 cases of this, so if you want to check it out, do so soon.

Jean-Paul Brun's 2007 Beaujolais Blanc

I am just over the moon about the 2007 Domaine des Terres Dorées (Jean-Paul Brun) Beaujolais Blanc Chardonnay. I know that's a mouthful / eyeful, but at the end of the day, it's just Jean-Paul Brun's most recent chardonnay.

Many of you know Brun as a leader among natural wine makers and that he has run afoul of the French certifiying organization INAO for making red Beaujolais that is maybe a little too natural, a little too distinctive, and a little too good. For example, he uses almost no SO2 and eschews the industrial yeast employed by most Beaujolais bottlers that turn their oversugared, gamay-based wines into banana-scented plonk. Brun makes the good stuff.

But I am talking now about his Beaujolais Blanc, made from 100% chardonnay.

Brun's unoaked chardonnay is unusually interesting, complex, and delicious for a wine this affordable, which I nabbed for $17. Peaches, cream, hay, sage, toasted almonds, and fruit blossoms make themselves known on the nose. These characteristics are nicely integrated on the palate and joined by well-structured citric acidity, a creamy texture, beautiful brown spices, and pure, gorgeous minerals on the long finish. It frankly reminds me more of a Rorero Arneis than many a white Burgundy. Whether you agree with that or not, you may well agree that this is fabulous stuff for short-term drinking (the plastic Nomacork further ensures, I think, a somewhat brief drinking window).

For all the body this wine has, its subtler charms were, to my surprise, lost when I paired it with a creamy walnut-and-basil pasta dish. I mean, everything was quite nice and no one lost a limb or anything, but next time I'll pair it with a white fish.

Thanksgiving Wine Plan

I'm a geek, so I get quietly if palpably excited by considering wine options for get-togethers — and Thanksgiving is a Big Daddy of the wine year.

Now, I'm still not sure where or with whom I'll be, which complicates matters, but the debut of the J. K. Carriere Willamette Valley Chardonnay, vintage 2005, is assured a place at my table in any case.

J. K. Carriere has always pushed the line that they're a Pinot-only producer — and fantastic Pinots they are — but it seems that winemaker Jim Prosser plotted the release of this Chardonnay some time ago. The grapes are sourced from the cool, organically- and dry-farmed Temperance Hill vineyard in the Eola Hills. What makes the release particularly exciting is that it is "built in an old-world style... [it's] made for food and exhibits a dominance of savory and mineral over fruit.... [with] high acid and no obvious oak."

Could a white wine, and an American white at that, be more perfectly modeled for Thanksgiving dinner? I will find out in four days.

WBW #39 Silver Burg

The Côte Chalonnaise! The Mâconnais! I admit that I rarely venture into these regions. Or the Côte d'Or, for that matter. I frankly typecast better Burgundy as outside my budget and pay (too much?) heed to the warnings of variability from that region at all price points.

"Hmmm," I think, "should I spend this $25 on a terrific Savennières or an OK white Burgundy?" As a Loire partisan, I admit that wasn't a fair question (not to mention a question of apples and oranges), but it's also a misleading question. I'm a fan of Oregon Pinot Noir, and good examples in a more Burgundian style often run in the $40 range. Red Burgundy of equal quality can be less.

So Brooklynguy is right: there are excellent wines to be had from these regions at good prices, red and white both. Here are three.

Les Héritiers du Comte Lafon Mâcon-Milly-Lamartine 2004
I have little experience with Mâcon wines, but ah, isn't that what WBW is all about? And I am happy to report that this was a happy experience — happier, indeed, than my recent experience with a rather dull white Santenay from the Côte de Beaune from the same year. This Lafon was a really nice Chardonnay. It had body without overt weight and acidity without tartness. It smelled most specifically of golden toast, along with pineapple and just a hint of coconut, but while that's obviously the voice of the oak barrel, that voice didn't shout in my ear. For example, it had a nice, clean, minerally finish. Good stuff! $23

François Raquillet Mercurey Vieilles Vignes 2005
Yes, it's silly to open this so soon, but it's WBW 39, whattaya gonna do? Left undisturbed fresh out of the bottle, this red plum-colored wine throws aromas of wet hay, cinnamon, and cherry cough drop; with swirling, related smells of fresh-turned pasture, seaweed, and cold steel take over. Fresh black cherry shows with some air. In the mouth the acidity is high-toned and ramrod straight — hard, even — and the wine finishes with a smooth minerality and a lip-smacking tang. This is a definite rebuy, for given a few years, this should become more velvety and deepen to where it needs to be. $27

François Raquillet Mercurey 1er Cru Les Vasées 2004
And here's the best of the three, circa November 2007. This light-colored wine was just so young when I opened it and served it with oven-roasted halibut and sauteed leeks but it deepened as the night went on. The perfume (and it IS perfume, not just aroma) is gorgeous — in the main it conveys fresh strawberries, but a deep, savory note of autumn pie spices is also prominent. It's a bit simple in the mouth right now but it's graceful, fills the mouth (lightly), the finish is long and slightly spicy, and the tannins, the acid, and the fruit are in balance. Very sexy! As much as I liked the above Vieilles Vignes from the great vintage, the premier cru from the lesser vintage shows its mettle, and it should also improve over the next few years. $27

OK, are these wines cheap? No. But they're not outrageously priced, either, and considering the quality, well worth it.

(Oh, and while I have your attention, I wanted to let you know that the Cristom Pinot Noir Mt. Jefferson Cuvée Willamette Valley 2005 is well worth your time. It shows promise simply by having been harvested in a classic (cooler) Oregon vintage, fermented with native yeasts, and aged using only 18% new French oak. That promise is fulfilled. With its strong acid core, this has a way to go before reaching its apex, but it's already showing well. It's pale and rosy like a Burgundy and shows like one, too, with its subtle notes of baking spices and ripe but delicate cranberry, strawberry, and currant flavors. Fine, with excellent length, and it's great with a mushroom-based sauce. As with Raquillet's Mercurey, this should become deeper and more velvety in the coming years. Actually, I should taste it alongside the Raquillet 1er Cru in 2010, provided I can find these wines again!)