Louis Jadot Chateau des Jacques vineyard

Regional France reveals the most interesting side of this wine to Curtis Marsh.

Saturday, March 4, 2006

Some wines simply do not travel well, mainly due to their delicate fruit, with much of their olfactory soul and charm only seemingly tactile within the environment of its region.

Take rose as an example. Most of this thoroughly satisfying quaff seems to slide down so easily when consumed under the revitalizing Mediterranean sun in the south of France or Costa Brava. Yet those favorite bottles you painstakingly brought back with you taste disappointingly insipid and angular when broached at home.

Beaujolais is also a wine that does not travel well outside of its region, or at least any further than Lyon or Paris.

Forget the nasty, tired and thin supermarket Beaujolais-Villages that has been stripped of any fruit by over- sulphuring (SO2 antioxidant) and excessive filtering. Unfortunately, Beaujolais has become a victim of its own marketing success, suffering from rampant commercialization and over production.

In order to satisfy a burgeoning market too many producers have dispensed with traditional methods and succumbed to over-fertilizing with chemicals and pesticides to boost yields and previously outlawed, unconducive mechanical harvesting to reduce costs.

To the contrary and unashamedly made for immediate consumption; lightly filtered (if at all) with negligible SO2 and flowing direct from the barrel, good Beaujolais served at a refreshing 13 degrees Celsius is conspicuously more white wine than it is red. It is translucent raspberry pink, crunchy fresh with almost candy-sweet fruit, soft and smooth yet crisp with nervy acidity, and to be enjoyed as the consummate 'vin de étancher' or thirst quencher.

To enjoy the ethereal delights of genuine Beaujolais, you will need to take yourself off to Paris where traditional neighbourhood bistros such as La Tour de Montlhery chez Denise, in Rue des Prouvaires 1st, dispense an eminently drinkable house Brouilly (cru Beaujolais) out of carafes with typically brusque Parisian bonhomie.

Or you could travel through the Beaujolais region, as I did some years ago with a friend Jean-Paul Prunetti, owner of the remarkably authentic Parisian Bistro France-Soir in Melbourne, incidentally celebrating its 20th birthday this week.

We were in search of the elusive serious Beaujolais producers from the Morgon appellation, rumored among the trade to make fleshy, full-flavored, rich and extremely complex pinot noir-like wines just like they did in the old days.

We were on the scent of a tiny and well-respected producer in Morgon called Domaine De Robert, and having secured an appointment to visit their cellar at 3pm, we were looking for lunch.

It was a scorching hot day in July, just before noon, as we drove in to the evocatively named village of Fleurie. The place was deserted with the hot wind kicking up dust; all that was missing was the tumbleweed rolling past. No sooner had the clock turned twelve, the village suddenly came alive with several people descending upon what appeared to be the local pub.

Ever conscious of rule number when travelling in country France, always follow the locals if you want a decent feed, we headed the same direction. Inside was sans air-conditioning and nauseatingly stuffy, so we jostled amongst wiry, stocky vignerons for a shaded outside table, assisted greatly by Jean-Paul’s native tongue and emulous Parisian upbringing.

The set menu was turkey casserole, cheese selection and a half litre jug of beaujolais for 40 francs (HK$56.50) and it looked like the entire restaurant was ordering this. Applying rule number two, eat what the locals are eating, if you want a decent feed, we followed suit.

As the garcon bellowed across the restaurant to the bar “doux plait du jour pour nous touriste camarade”, two perfectly chilled glass jugs of Beaujolais landed on our table, the sweet fragrance of cherries and raspberries engulfing our senses.

Deliciously light and more rose than red wine, we each consumed our first half-liter even before the turkey casserole arrived. Our waiter, impressed by our drinking capabilities, suggested we might like to try the house Fleurie, which met with a resounding "Oui!"

As much as we had enjoyed the simple Beaujolais, the Fleurie was a quantum leap in caliber, clearly denser in color and wonderfully perfumed with violets, rose  petals  and  blackcurrants. Also  served  straight  from  a-

stainless- steel drum, but a few degrees warmer, it was still refreshing with the sweetness of fruit slightly tamed by a seductive pungency. It showed more individuality with iron-filing minerality from the pure granite soils, yet was gorgeous in its velvet smoothness.

It clearly demonstrated to us that "cru" Beaujolais, which are wines that come from a more delineated area and are more indicative of their respective terroir, represent a totally different side to Beaujolais. There are 10 crus, all located in the northernmost part of the region - Brouilly and Cote de Brouilly, Chenas, Chiroubles, Fleurie, Julienas, Morgon, Moulin-a-Vent, Regnie and Saint-Amour. Rather confusingly, you will not see the word Beaujolais anywhere on a producer's label.

Beaujolais takes its name from the town of Beaujeu, founded by the powerful nobility, Dukes of Beaujeu, in the 10th century. To the north in neighboring Burgundy and the famous Cote d'Or where the pinot noir grape is preferred, the gamay grape was outlawed and its cultivation forbidden. This far- sighted decree by Philippe the Bold in 1395, while unpopular with growers at the time, served both regions well, with gamay propagating far more successfully in the granite soils of Beaujolais.

My search for the best individual producers of cru beaujolais available in Hong Kong has been rather unsuccessful, although I would like to encourage readers look out for these names, in particular their Morgon Cote du Py cuvees: Domaine de Robert, Marcel Lapierre, Jean Foillard, Guy Breton, and Jean- Paul Thevenet. If you are skeptical about the merits of Beaujolais, I can assure you, any of these wines will change your views.

There is available, however, the excellent Moulin-a-Vent Chateau des Jacques, owned by the top Burgundy Negociant Louis Jadot. Among the enormous range of Louis Jadot wines, their strength is in the commune of Gevrey-Chambertin and the Chateau des Jacques at Romaneche-Thorins, which they purchased in 1996.

Known as the king of Beaujolais, Moulin-a-Vent derives its name from an ancient windmill built on the hill of Romaneche-Thorins and symbolizes the dichotomy in beaujolais styles, indeed the antithesis to Beaujolais Nouveau.

The top wines, more often made with Burgundian fermentation techniques, as opposed to the normal Beaujolais method of carbonic maceration (fermentation in a closed vat of carbon dioxide), possess extraordinary ageing potential, sometimes requiring 10 or more years in bottle to develop and capable of lasting 50-plus years.

Much of Moulin-a-Vent's exceptional quality is attributed to the salmon- pink mixture of sand and granite and subsoil particularly rich in manganese. However, this hinges on the dedication of the vigneron to his vineyard and soils.

This was perfectly illustrated by a winemaker at Chateau des Jacques, Guillaume de Castelnau, an esoteric ex-French Cavalry officer who explained: "We need to reduce and eventually stop using chemical products such as weedkiller, fertilizer and pesticides to help the soil recover its microbial and bacteriological life. I want the roots to go down deeply into the earth and find the mineral richness stocked there - and to achieve this, I'm gradually converting the domain to biodynamics." It may be the gunmetal mineral aromas of Moulin-a-Vent that made Guillaume feel so much at home.

The Louis Jadot Moulin-a-Vent Chateau des Jacques 2002, an above average vintage, was rather unyielding to begin with and, as suspected, had more in common with a Cote du Beaune wine than beaujolais. Its firm structure and steely acidity partnered brilliantly though with the hearty cassoulet, alleviating an abnormally cold February evening.

Discernibly deeper in color than most Beaujolais, I was captivated by the sinuous complexity of aromas as the wine breathed out black cherries, kirsch, cold steely-earthy minerals, air-cured meats and gun smoke. The palate was no less intricate with sour cherries, yet plummy and chocolaty, with tangy acidity, iron filings, gunflint and mouth- coating powdery tannins. Quite savory on the finish it became more generous as it breathed, almost an hour in the glass. I am certain it will age very well and is mind-bogglingly undervalued HK$190 per bottle.

Available through direct importer Connoisseur Wines (Tel: 2772 3670). www.connoisseur-wines.com.hk

View from Moulin-a-Vent towards La Madone Church and the hill of Fleurie

“Curtis Marsh has over 20 years experience in wine, initially as a highly regarded Sommelier in New Zealand and Australia, followed by 15 years as a wine importer and merchant. He has travelled extensively throughout the vineyard regions of the world, attaining a comprehensive knowledge in wine, food and culture. He is now freelance writer on wine, food and travel based in Hong Kong.”

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