Like Bellevue and Belair, there are several châteaux with the name Bellegrave in Bordeaux, which can be somewhat confusing. The most famous is Belgrave, the 5th growth in Saint-Laurent-Médoc.
Bellegrave in Pauillac is a small estate (8.4 hectares of vines) at the entrance to the city of Pauillac when coming from Bordeaux. The château building is small and very attractive, as are the gardens that surround it.
The vineyard, wedged between Latour, Pichon Baron, and Lynch Bages is composed of 61% Cabernet Sauvignon and 39% Merlot. As its name suggests, the soil is quite gravelly.
Bellegrave was bought in 1997 by Jean-Paul Meffre who originally had a vine nursery in the Gard department. His family had previously acquired two châteaux in Saint-Julien: du Glana and Lalande.
I have rarely drunk Bellegrave, but thought that a bottle from the 2015 vintage might be ready to go, so I decanted it two hours before lunch and gave it a whirl. I’m sad to report that I came away rather disappointed. This was the proverbial “doughnut wine” in that it started out big and spherical, but showed very weak on the middle palate and, truth to tell, on the aftertaste as well. It was certainly ready to drink, unlike the big guns in Pauillac. The technical fact sheet for the 2015 vintage at Bellegrave speaks of a very good year with just the right amount of water stress and very high yield (57 hectoliters/hectare). It may just be that high yield that accounts for the rather diluted quality of the wine.
More’s the pity since the terroir is top-notch and the chateau is lovely, as is the label. I can’t help but wonder what the results would have been under different management and with different winemaking. That having been said, it would be unfair to paint the château’s production as mediocre from having tasted just one vintage. I will certainly try to sample more recent ones when the opportunity presents itself.
I have always had a soft spot for Château de Malleret, a beautiful 350-hectare estate located in Le Pian-Médoc, a 5-minute drive from Château La Lagune, the first classified growth one encounters travelling north from Bordeaux.
With 54 hectares of vines, mostly in the Haut-Médoc appellation, Malleret is one of 14 Crus Bourgeois Exceptionnels
Many moons ago I worked for the Maison de Luze in Bordeaux at a time when they were a subsidiary of Rémy Martin and owned the château. Going to Malleret for lunch with important clients was always a pleasure and the richly-furnished interior was as impressive as the outside. The late Marquis Bertrand du Vivier, an archetypical aristocrat, presided over such meals with a dignity worthy of such prestigious surroundings.
Built in classic Second Empire style in the 1860s, the striking château replaced a centuries-old structure. In the hands of the Clossman and Du Vivier families for many years, Malleret is now owned by Louis Oberkampf, related to the Clossmans, who can thus claim to have possessed the château for 150 years (except for the eight years it belonged to Rémy Martin).
The building and its grounds are listed historic monuments and to my mind the cellars are also among the most beautiful in Bordeaux.
On to the 2016 Château Malleret. The color made the wine seem older than its years, but not by much. The nose featured engaging notes of plum and lead, as well as subtle truffle overtones. This bouquet was soft and understated. The wine proved to be rather light on the palate. Seeing as I subject my wife to blind tasting, she guessed a very fine Médoc from not such a fine year. In the event, it was a mid-range Médoc from a very good year… 2016 is a great vintage in the Médoc and this wine, though relatively light in body, was well-structured. The follow-through on the aftertaste was attractive, but not very long. I came back to the wine the next day and it seemed to have put on more weight, but showed less elegance. It did lead to wonder about how often wines improve one, two, or three days after opening and it would be fascinating to organize a series of blind tastings to look into this.
I was aware that Donald Trump’s weaponized tariffs, applied to over 100 countries on an arbitrary and impossible-to-understand basis, had been challenged in the Supreme Court. Seeing as he has packed courts on all levels with his cronies, I had little hope that the tariffs would be judged unconstitutional (executive overreach). But, lo and behold, the Court just ruled 6 to 3 that this was indeed the case. Hallelujah!
What’s significant here is that no major US corporation, many of whom have lost a lot of money due to the increased tariffs, stepped up to challenge the authoritarian president. Reflecting the political environment in America and the fear that reigns there at the present time, none of the big guys had the cojones to say “stop this madness”. How pathetic
The US is learning that protection is ultimately counter-productive (this is one of the oldest and most widely agreed-upon ideas in economics, going back to Adam Smith and David Ricardo) as the cost of living rises and the average American is hurting – not to mention the ill-will and anti-Americanism Trump has created around the world.
I mention pyrrhic victory because within 24 hours, smarting from his defeat, Trump blithely announced that he would retaliate by applying an across-the-board 10% tariff on imports from every country on the planet. Will this unbelievably petulant response give rise to yet another court case? Who knows? With Trump pushing presidential power to new extremes of questionable legality, most anything is possible… Let us look at what happened in Bordeaux. Trump pulled the figure of a 15% tariff on French wine imports out of a hat. And, compounded by an increasingly low US dollar to euro exchange rate, sales on Bordeaux’s most important export market have unsurprisingly slumped. Of course, that penalizes the local wine industry, but also consumers of Bordeaux in the US.
The whole theory behind protectionism is that by raising the price of imported goods, homegrown industries will get a boost. But does anyone really think that Bordeaux wine lovers will automatically turn to California wines? In my opinion, most such people already have a lot of Bordeaux in their cellars and will simply wait until the prohibitive import duties are a thing of the past.
Meanwhile, the US president plays havoc with the rules of international commerce and law.
As we all know, there is a more than a little schadenfreude going around about the plight of Bordeaux. Sales have plummeted more than in any other French red wine region and, in response, roughly 14,000 hectares of vines have been uprooted since 2020. To put things into perspective, that’s more than 50% of the combined vineyard area of the Côte de Nuits and the Côte de Beaune!!! The people who are suffering are not the fat cats in three-piece suits, but the little guys, some of whose families have been making wine for generations. These are really tough times. The reasons for the drop in demand are multiple. Obviously, the Bordelais are not blameless, but red wine consumption has also been decreasing worldwide.
Something clearly had to be done and the radical reduction in vineyard area (government subsidized on the proviso that winegrowers commit to not replanting vines for 20 years) was the first step.
To help sales, the powers-that-be decided to introduce a new appellation starting with the 2025 vintage. The very first bottles have just been released. Of course, there is the point of view that this new appellation will only create unnecessary confusion and muddy the waters. I can see this to the extent that “Claret” is a very British name that is either unknown or considered prissy on Bordeaux’s largest export market in both value and volume: the US. It is likewise an unknown term on the hugely important French market What’s worse is that the guys in the Côtes du Rhône want their Claret appellation as well! L’AOC Claret voulue par les côtes-du-Rhône pour leur vin rouge léger et édulcoré And then there’s the risk of misidentifying “Claret” as “Clairet”, a different sort of wine altogether with a similar-sounding name…
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On the plus side, give credit to Bordeaux for trying to dig itself out of a hole. Of course, not all initiatives succeed, but people are at least attempting something new. The idea is that wines entitled to Claret the appellation will necessarily have a lighter color and less tannin than those required for Bordeaux Rouge and, here’s the biggie, can contain up to 7 grams residual sugar per liter. To give you an idea of what this means, experienced tasters can perceive 1–2 grams/liter of sugar and for average consumers it’s more like 2–4 g/L.Furthermore, it is suggested that the wine be served chilled. Clearly, young people in particular are being targeted. This is all a pretty radical departure from traditional Bordeaux.
I called the Syndicat des Bordeaux and Bordeaux Supérieur this morning, but the person I spoke to was only qualified to talk about the technical aspects of Bordeaux Claret rather than the story behind it and how it will be promoted. Marketing is evidently very important in order to prevent this new product from being a big flop. Unfortunately, however, the promotional budget is funded by sales of basic Bordeaux, which have greatly diminished…
Bordeaux Claret was launched at the Wine Paris trade fair in February 2026. I wasn’t there to taste it, but an English friend, a Master of Wine, was. He said that the wine was fruity, upfront, and did indeed seem to suit young consumers. This same friend explained that even on such a traditional market as Britain, generation Z is unfamiliar with the term Claret, so that rebranding it should not be a problem. Mention was made above of the need to lower prices. Well, current price levels (about 8-10 euros a bottle) are unquestionably competitive compared to other regions, so the challenge is more to provide people with a satisfactory product and convince them to try it. With regard to quality, the wine must be approved by a blind tasting panel to be entitled to the appellation.
The history of Château Haut Marbuzet is a great success story that started in 1952 when Hervé Duboscq bought 7 hectares of vines in Saint-Estèphe between Cos d’Estournel and Montrose. His son Henri, a mythical figure in the Médoc, took over from his father in the 1960s and the estate grew to its present-day 75 hectares under his leadership. His three sons now look after the vineyard and cellars.
Haut Marbuzet is different from other Médoc châteaux in a number of ways. Although the original vineyards belonged to the Irish Mac Carthy family in the 19th century, the terroir had completely lost its identity. So, there was no brand recognition whatsoever and everything had to be done from scratch. The estate nevertheless went on to acquire a fine reputation in short order and was designated a cru bourgeois exceptionnel in the 2003 classification. The Live-ex exchange (the reference market for fine wine) considers the château on a par with a fourth growth. Unlike most other Médocs, the wine is made with a majority of Merlot and aged 100% in new oak barrels. This confers a unique style that unquestionably stands out when tasted alongside other wines from Saint-Estèphe. I have always placed Haut-Marbuzet stylistically somewhere between the Médoc and the New Word.
Haut Marbuzet is also unusual in that the château has a thriving business selling directly to clients, including private customers, bypassing the traditional Bordeaux négociants. The wine is well-distributed in local restaurants.
I visited Haut Marbuzet for perhaps the fifth or sixth time in late October. But this occasion was different because I was able to sit down for an hour with Danish wine writer Izak Litwar and taste through seven vintages in the presence of the venerable Henri Dubosq, whom I had never met. Monsieur Duboscq, 82 years old, is a real character. As opposed to the smooth besuited types that proliferate in the Médoc, he is very salt-of-the-earth, with strong opinions and a great sense of humor.
Haut Marbuzet is one of those estates with an indelible personality in all vintages. This was confirmed at the tasting, where I was especially impressed with the 2018 and 2019 vintages, followed by the 2022 and 2020. There was a round, upfront sort of fruitiness and while the new oak unquestionably had a role to play, it didn’t actually overpower. Haut Marbuzet has aspects of classic Médoc (blackcurrant, graphite) and a rich, fresh, somewhat assertive flavor. There’s a certain hardness and the aftertaste is often slightly dry, even with age.
Last Sunday I thought I would open a bottle of 2005 Haut Marbuzet at home. Bordeaux lovers will long quarrel over the relative merits of the great vintages of the first decade of the 21st century: 2000, 2005, 2009, and 2010. Keeping my ear to the ground, I’m hearing most plaudits for 2005 and 2010, but the jury is still out. 2005 Haut Marbuzet had a deep dark color, a nose of sweet black fruit, and the telltale graphite and cassis notes mentioned above. It was rich and fresh on the palate, rather masculine in character. I’d say it is right in its drinking window, but will stay there for some time to come. I might add that Haut Marbuzet frequently shows well quite young.
I have been an active participant on the Bordeaux Wine Enthusiasts forum for over 20 years. This is the only participative site on the internet focusing on Bordeaux wines. The wonderful thing about BWE is that it also enables Bordeaux lovers from around the world to meet in the flesh and pull a few corks. Thanks to BWE I have been to dinners in half a dozen countries with people I would never have met otherwise. I am so grateful to live in the digital era!
I mention this because one BWE gathering in New York a few years ago featured 1982 great growth Médocs. The wines had all been contributed by an anonymous donor to a blind tasting dinner with about 40 people. What a great gesture! This involved classified growths up to and including Mouton Rothschild. Although Mouton was voted number one, not far behind was a château none of us expected: Branaire Ducru. This was my first inkling that Branaire was a seriously underrated estate – not exactly a dark horse, but one all too rarely in the limelight.
I have been attending the Union des Grands Crus en primeur barrel tastings for a couple of decades. These are wonderful events, not just for a preview of the new vintage of world-famous wines, but also as a way of meeting people and keeping up to date with what’s happening in the wine country. Well, among all my experiences at these tastings, one that really stands out was discovering the 2009 vintage in Saint Julien and Pauillac. These wines had everything for me. Received wisdom in Bordeaux is that 2009 and 2010 are both excellent vintages with a very different profile: 2009 is purported to be rich, fruity, and seductive, whereas 2010 is considered more austere, but also more elegant and with better ageing potential (therefore, ultimately superior). I’m not convinced this is true but, even if I’m wrong, 2009 Médocs are by any standard truly exceptional. And seeing as I have several bottles of the 2009 Branaire Ducru, I figure it was about time I tried one at age 16.
Belonging to the Maroteaux family since 1988, the estate has 60 hectares of vines. Branaire Ducru is one of four 4th growths in Saint Julien. While perhaps not as well-known as Talbot or Beychevelle, this is at least partly due to the fact that those châteaux have a much larger production, with 1.8 and 1.5 times more vines respectively. The impressive château building is just across the road from Beychevelle on the famous Route des Châteaux. Like his father before him, François-Xavier Maroteaux is currently president of the Union des Grands Crus.
On to the wine: the first impression was excellent thanks to the regal, very deep colour with mahogany tinges. The soft, subtle and pure nose was captivating, with hints of ethereal sweet blackcurrant, pipe tobacco, fresh earth, cinnamon, roast coffee beans, and a floral component.
The wine shone even more on the palate. The flavor profile was both penetrating and soft with remarkably velvety tannin. It filled out from the very first, but without any chunkiness. In short, it was a big, but classy wine. Reflecting its Saint Julien origin, the taste epitomized the term “brambly” in that there were lovely wildberry aromas along with a positive sort of greenness (the blackberry bush itself) typical of great Cabernet Sauvignon. The aftertaste was quite long, mineral, slightly dry, and showed a little heat, but no burn. 13.5 % alcohol is on the low side these days. On the whole, the rich fruitiness was beautifully balanced by lively acidity. The wine’s most outstanding feature was its gorgeous tannic texture, not so much smooth and soft as cushiony.
At peak? Probably not, but this is the sort of wine that tastes delicious at all stages. And I’d put this at late adolescence.
I attended a huge Union des Grands Crus tasting in June and am just now getting around to writing up my tasting notes. This tasting was held at Hangar 14 in the city of Bordeaux on the banks of the Garonne River. As usual, it was superbly organized by the UGC, and wines were poured by the château owner or their representative, which gave an added dimension.
I find it hard to make detailed notes when confronted with a large number of wines and usually like to stop at 15, maximum 20. In this instance, there were just 13. I concentrated on Right Bank wines, all from the 2022 vintage.
2022 on the Right Bank was marked by extreme heat and severe drought, compounded by frost, hail threats, and forest fires. Yet, thanks to strategic vineyard practices like canopy management and green harvesting, many estates made fresh, balanced wines with depth. The harvest featured small thick-skinned berries. Despite high alcohol and tannin levels, many wines retained acidity and freshness, thereby avoiding the overripe character of other hot vintages.
Apology: Posts come so much more alive with photos. I had a problem with my smart phone and lost photos of all the labels. I since have bought a new phone!
Château Dassault N: Pure forward ripe berry fruit. Fresh. P: Tight, velvety texture. Lively with good acidity and showing character on the middle palate. Good oak and fine balance. Not powerful, but elegant and will be great after medium-term ageing. I believe this is the best Dassault I’ve ever tasted. 16/20 (and I’m a tough grader)
Château Villemaurine N: Deep, ethereal cherry. Sexy, but a bit cosmetic Attractive, with cherry-vanilla nuances, but not nuanced or profound. P: Marked acidity accounts for a certain liveliness. Mediuù-long aftertaste that surprised me because I thought it would be more facile. Obvious oak, but as for its integration let’s give this wine the benefit of the doubt. 14/20
Château Grand Mayne N: Muted and not very elegant. Closed and too anonymous. Definitely too much oak. P: Rich and round, but hollow. Overworked. There’s a lip-smacking finish, but this is disappointingly short. 13/20
Château Franc Mayne N: Chocolatey and slightly medicinal with candied fruit overtones that are already expressive. P: Big and chunky on the palate and you can feel the alcohol. Tangy finish typical of Saint Emilion’s limestone soil. Teeth-coating tannin with berry flavors. A little jammy and a touch dry on the finish, but I had a high opinion of this wine and bet on its becoming more balanced with age. 15/20
Château La Tour Figeac N: Classic, floral (blossoms, iris). First class. P: Full-bodied, but with great acidity and purity. A poster child of the finest wines of the limestone plateau, as illustrated by the long aftertaste that caresses the palate. A revelation. 17/20
Château La Dominique N: Expressive, but with some reduction. Subdued, dark and brooding and slightly rustic, but with the unmistakable stamp of its terroir next door to Figeac. Well-made and tries very hard to go one notch up the quality scale, but doesn’t quite make it. P: Big, chunky, and dips on the middle palate. Already a bit dry. Will be better with age, but ultimately lacks finesse. 14.5/20
Château Capdemourlin N: Slight stink and not showing especially well at this juncture. Cranberry and herbaceous notes. P: Undoctored, but shows some alcoholic burn. Big, but hollow. There’s a certain sappiness, but the wine is unfortunately unbalanced. Will undoubtedly improve with age, but will always be somewhat topheavy. 13/20
Château Larmande N: Intriguing fresh black fruit and brambly aromas along with subtle floral and cedar nuances. P: Layered candied fruit. Rich, but refreshing, and lively. Marked, but not excessive oak. An odd sensation of alcohol and acidity on the finish, but I’d bet on its developing well. 15.5/20
Château Canon N: Classic, pure, and almost mystical nose with a delightful humus component. Pure and ethereal, nuanced and monumental. P: The old library aromatics carry over onto the palate. Gorgeous velvety tannin coats the teeth. Fresh, very long, and flawless aftertaste. Great wine. 17.5/20
Château Figeac N: Forthright, meaty, and leathery with vanilla and caramel nuances. Not quite as nice as the Canon, but almost… Some dark chocolate overtones. P: Perhaps more vigorous than the Canon, but without the same majestic development on the palate going into fantastic textured tannin. Serious. For power, Figeac beats Canon, but it’s the other way around for elegance. 16/20
Château La Pointe N: Bit simple with noticeable alholoic presence. Fresh, but one-dimensional P: Smooth to begin with, then rather acidic. Tangy, and the sort of Pomerol enjoyable young or old. The aftertaste is better than what precedes with ripe fruit and empyreumatic notes. Good grip. Not the greatest balance, but a good Pomerol with perhaps just too much oak. 14/2
Château Gazin N: Potent berry aromas along with blackstrap molasses, truffle and a subtle wildflower component. P: Tremendous concentrated and juicy blackberry flavor. Rich and immediately appealing, then going on to show rich sensuality with a very nice follow-through, with a floral aspect on the aftertaste. A very fine Gazin. 16.5/20
Château Petit Village N: Ethereal cherry. P: Soft and seductive. Very sexy with a cool lnog afterteaste. A class act. Haute couture with cherry-vanilla flavors predominating. 15/20
My wife and I visited the Chilean wine country in late May, stopping at 8 wineries.
Seeing as we went to see the Argentinian vineyards two years ago Trip to the Argentinian wine country – Bordeaux Wine Blog we really wanted to see South America’s other main vineyard region, especially since Bordeaux grape varieties have pride of place there.
I usually try to illustrate my blog posts with plenty of photos but, alas, when I changed smartphones, the data transfer from my old phone did not go well and I lost a large number of photos, including all from Chile. That will teach me to back up next time…. So, please excuse the lack of illustrations.
A brief comparison shows that Chile is the world’s 6th largest wine producer and Argentina the 8th largest. Recent trends are for greater growth in Chile as compared to its neighbor. Both countries make predominantly red wines (about 60% for both). Argentina focuses on Malbec (40%) and Bonarda AKA Charbano (9%), whereas the three leading red varieties in Chile are Cabernet Sauvignon (30%), Merlot (11%), and Carménère (9%).
Although the Carménère grape variety originated in Bordeaux, it has all but disappeared there, and now sets Chile apart from all other wine regions. It wasn’t until 1994 that a French viticulturalist identified a supposed mutation of Merlot to be a separate grape variety imported from Bordeaux in the 19th century. Chile has since capitalized on Carménère’s uniqueness and it has become the country’s most emblematic wine.
Winegrowing in Chile dates back to the 16th century. The climate is temperate thanks to its location sandwiched between the Andes and the Pacific Ocean. Furthermore, the mountains serve as a barrier to vine diseases and insect pests. Chile is one of the only major wine-producting countries in the world that has never been affected by phylloxera.
Our visits were exclusively in the Central Valley area, more specifically the Maipo, Colchagua, and Casablanca districts.
Our first stop was at Viña Maquis winery situated between the Tinguiririca River and Chimbarongo Creek in the Colchagua Valley. Maquis benefits from a sheltered microclimate with rich alluvial soil and natural protection from spring frosts and summer heat. Established by Jesuit priests in the 18th century, it was purchased by the Hurtado family in 1916 and has stayed in their hands ever since. A modern winery was built in 2002 and Eric Boissenot from Bordeaux is their winemaking consultant. Furthermore, the wine is distributed internationally via the Place de Bordeaux. Maquis has over 100 hectares of vines, of which approximately 40 are dedicated to Cabernet Franc, the largest single-variety planting of that grape in Chile. I tasted through several wines, starting with the 2020 Lien, the estate’s flagship wine, consisting primarily of Cabernet Franc and Carménère. This was very well-balanced and savory with fine tannin, cherry flavors, and unquestionable elegance. Only a fairly short aftertaste could be faulted. I went on to taste the 2008 and 2006 vintages of this same wine. The former was more Rhonish, with a touch too much oak whereas the latter (containing, unusually, 42% Syrah) had an interesting nose with graphite overtones and fine-grained tannin. It was just a little dry on the finish. The 2019 Viola was 94% Carménère, and a very good one at that. This was quite an impressive wine I noted very highly. It featured a nose of clove, wildflowers, and some muskiness. It showed weigh on the palate with marked acidity – powerful, but classy, with a very long aftertaste.
The 2019 Franco was 94% Cabernet Franc. It had an understated earthy, leathery nose and was somewhat exotic. The wine was even better on the palate. This was lively and lighter than the previous wine with teeth-coating tannin. As good as it was, I nevertheless preferred the Viola, which was one of the best wines I tasted in Chile.
The next winery on our travels was Clos Apalta, near Santa Cruz in the Colchagua Valley, established by Alexandra Marnier-Lapostelle (whose family formerly owned Grand Marnier liqueur) and Michel Rolland in 1994. The grape varieties and winemaking are greatly influenced by Bordeaux. The Mediterranean climate combined with a granite and alluvial soil produce wines with good structure. The nearby Clos Apalta Residence is a Relais & Châteaux hotel-restaurant whose luxury image is shared with the wines. These have an international reputation and are quite pricey. I tried the 2021 Petit Clos, the estate’s second wine, and the 2019 Clos Apalta. Having gone to Clos Apalta with great expectations, I have to say that I came away rather disappointed. The Petit Clos was fairly harsh, dry, and leathery. The 2019 Clos was forceful, long, and persistent on the palate, but overly concentrated and hot. There were eucalyptus overtones and an over-oaked Rioja-like aftertaste. This was unfortunately an instance where a famous name did not live up to the hype.
We went on to have a delicious lunch at Montes winery in close proximity. The arrival there was quite dramatic because the vine leaves had turned into a blaze of colour on a landscape of rolling hills. Founded in 1987, Montes has over 700 hectares of vines as well as many contract vineyards. The winery has definitely understood the concept of wine tourism and their restaurant was very good indeed, an ideal opportunity to taste the wines. We had four of these with our meal, but unfortunately not the top cuvées, which I have had elsewhere and much appreciated. Anyway the 4 we tasted were: the Kaiken Brut (70% Pinot Noir, 30% Chardonnay, and actually from the Uco Valley in Argentina) that was not completely dry, but very good indeed, the Chardonnay (in a crowd-pleasing New World style), the Carménère (with roasted and black fruit overtones, but too rich and overripe for me), and the Cabernet Sauvignon (which was better on the nose than on the palate). Still, the experience was altogether positive and this is one of the great names in Chilean wine.
Very close by was another winery, Neyen, established in 1889, with some of the oldest ungrafted vines in Chile among the 100 hectares they cultivate. Acquired by the famous Sherry house of Gonzales Byass, the estate was one of the pioneers of organic and biodynamic winegrowing. I tried their flagship wine, Neyen, from the 2020 vintage. This consists of 45% Cabernet Sauvignon followed by Carménère, Syrah, Cabernet Franc, and Petit Verdot. The Syrah came through strongly on the bouquet along with some mintiness. The flavor was more exotic than remarkable, with sweet oak and a rich velvety texture. Next up was 2022 Primus Carménère with mint and chocolate (After Eight!) on the nose. The wine was full-bodied with a heavy mouthfeel on the palate along with strong toasty oak – too much for my taste. Last up was 2019 Neyen (55% Cabernet Sauvignon and 45% Carménère) with earthy agreeably herbaceous aromas. The wine was big and expressive, but with a hot aftertaste. Very New World in style and not particularly well-balanced.
Our first visit of the second day was to Almaviva, one of the most famous estates in Chile, a joint venture founded in 1997 by Baron Philippe de Rothschild in Bordeaux and Concho y Toro, Chile’s largest producer. Almaviva is in Puento Alto, a suburb of Santiago in the Maipo Valley. We spent most of a morning visiting this world class estate formerly belonging to the Chadwick family (who own nearby Viñedo Chadwick, whose wine costs hundreds of dollars a bottle). Almaviva’s 60 hectares of vines grow on rocky alluvial soil with considerable thermal amplitude and good ventilation thanks to wind funnelled through the Coastal Range. A beautiful winery was built in 2000. Ninety percent of production is exported, with Brazil being a major customer. Having been to Cheval des Andes two years ago, I was delighted to visit South America’s other Bordeaux-inspired grand cru, which clearly receives careful attention. The name Almaviva has nothing to do with Chile. It comes from Count Almaviva, a central figure in two famous plays by Beaumarchais, The Barber of Seville (1775) and The Marriage of Figaro (1784), which later inspired operas by Rossini and Mozart in which Almaviva is portrayed as a stylish, cultured nobleman — sophisticated, worldly, and influential. Furthermore, the “de Beaumarchais” adopted by Julien de Beaumarchais de Rothschild (Philippine’s son) is not a family name by blood, but a cultural and symbolic tribute to Count Almaviva. On to the three wines we tasted: “Epu” means “two” in Mapuche, the language of Chile’s indigenous people, which is rather appropriate for Almaviva’s second wine. The 2019 vintage had a penetrating, but non-alcoholic nose of humus, leather, truffle, and subtle spice (cinnamon). It was rich and elegant on the palate with cherry-vanilla flavors and some licorice overtones. Smooth with nary a hair out of place. Superb second wine. 15 degrees alcohol by volume, but it does not seem so. Retails at approximately 50 dollars a bottle. The grand vin, 2019 Almaviva, showed ethereal eucalyptus nuances and more obvious toasty oak, but this was unobtrusive. Like Epu, the wine was quite rich on the palate with wildberry notes and gentle grip. Also 15% alc./vol. but not hot at all. The oak comes through on the finish, but this is one to age for 10-15 years and the balance at this stage is very promising. 2020 Almaviva was the best wine we tasted all week in Chile. The bewitching bouquet expressed understated blackcurrant aromas as well as incense, cedar, and lovely black fruit. The acidity was quite marked, with refined, auspicious, teeth-coating tannin. Great length. Comparing to what I know, this was a bigger wine than most Médocs, with some exotic flavors and, unsurprisingly, toasty oak. The tannic texture was very attractive. The wine’s development on the palate was not seamless, but this will undoubtedly improve and become more focused with age.
We went from Alma Viva to Cusino Macul in Peñalolén also in the Maipo Valley district, more specifically the Alto Maipo subregion at the foothills of the Andes in the Santiago urban area. Founded in 1856, Cusino Macul remains in the hands of the Cusino family. They produce 250,000 cases a year, of which 65% are exported. I tasted four wines. The 2022 white Finis Terrae, a blend of Chardonnay, Riesling, and Viognier had a medium-deep gold color and a nose mostly showing Chardonnay. The flavor profile leaned towards tropical fruit, a New World style with considerable oak, and a rather short aftertaste. The 2022 “W”, a 100% Cabernet Sauvignon, already had a slightly orangeish rim. The bouquet displayed good varietal character, as well as a little herbaceousness with hints of dark chocolate and eucalyptus – a powerful wine with too much oak (mercifully medium-toast). One has the impression that the winemaker tried too hard here. Even so, this will reward ageing. The next two wines were in the premium and “icon” categories. The latter is a widespread term in Chile for “cuvée prestige”. The 2019 red Finis Terrae (60% Cabernet Sauvignon, 27% Merlot, and 13% Syrah) was a definite step up, with a bouquet that was already well-developed with some muskiness. The wine was better than expected on the palate, with good acidity, black and green olive nuances, and not too much oak. The puckery finish and basic structure indicated that this will gain from another ten years’ ageing. The final wine, 2020 Lota, was 60% Cabernet Sauvignon and 35% Merlot. There were already tertiary notes here and a little reduction as well as pronounced cherry and prune aromatics. This was a big wine whose quality came through in the long aftertaste.
The first visit on our third and last day was at Aquitania also in Penalolen (Maipo Valley). This was started in 1990 by two Bordeaux luminaries: Bruno Prats (of Château Cos d’Estournel) and Paul Pontalier (of Château Margaux). There are just 18 hectares of vines surrounding the winery, but a further twenty in the Malleconia Valley (Patagonia), 650 km. further south. The Bordeaux influence is very strong at Aquitania (the Roman name for the province where Bordeaux is located) and you hear French more than Spanish there… I tasted four wines of their range. The first was 2021 Sol de Sol Pinot Noir with good varietal character on the nose, but green to a degree that overpowered the smoky spicy nuances. There was lots of tannic grip on the palate. The 2020 Paul Bruno, Aquitania’s flagship wine, was 100% Cabernet Sauvignon. This proved to be a tight, herbaceous, and a little dry – not exactly a winner. The 2021 Lazuli (8,700 bottles a year), also 100% Cab, is Aquitania’s icon wine. This was a different kettle of fish with an aromatic understated nose revealing hints of candied black fruit. The wine was big and peppery on the palate, but finished soft, with fine-textured tannin. A class act. Retails at about 80 euros a bottle.
The next stop was more of a luncheon experience than a winery visit. This was to Santa Rita, founded in the Alto Jahuel district of the Maipo Valley in 1880. Owned by the Claro Group, one of Chile’s major conglomerates, Santa Rita also features a restaurant, a boutique hotel, and 40-hectares of landscaped grounds, all of which are registered historic landmarks. Viña Santa Rita welcomes about 130,000 visitors a year and produces some 12 million cases of wine annually. They own over 3,000 hectares of vines and have contracts covering another 2,300. The touristy part of Santa Rita is quite old and charming. I sampled four wines at lunch in their excellent 19th century style restaurant. Unfortunately, I can’t say exactly which ones because when I bought a new smartphone and they transferred all the data from the old one, most of the recent photos disappeared. As usual, I had taken pictures of the labels… Suffice it to say that the quality was in the foursquare and crowd-pleasing category.
Thie above is from a video presentation at Haras de Pirqué winery
Our final visit was to Haras de Pirqué, also in Maipo, an impressive estate on the site of a former thoroughbred breeding farm established in 1802. The winery building is magnificent with a commanding view of the Andes foothills and 80 hectares of vines. Haras de Pirqué was acquired by Antinori of Italy in 2017. The winery is very geared up for wine tourism, which doesn’t come cheap: the peso-equivalent of 60 euros a person for one hour and just some of the wines. I tasted four of them. The 2024 Albaclara was a Sauvignon Blanc with a citrusy varietal nose and marked acidity as well as an alcoholic presence on the finish. It was too angular and not really user-friendly for me. The 2021 Hussonet Gran Reserva (100% Cabernet Sauvignon) had a biscuity black cherry nose with some graphite. It showed tremendous blackcurrant character on the palate with good acidity and ageing potential. It also had a heavy mouth feel, but a short aftertaste. Well-made nevertheless. 2021 Galantas, a pure Cabernet Franc, displayed spice and pencil shaving aromas as part of an intriguing bouquet. The mouth feel was weighty. The flavor started out big and then tapered down with some minty notes and good tannic texture. A wine to age. The final wine was 2021 Albis, a blend of 60% Cabernet Sauvignon and 40% Carménère. The winery figures that this combines the best of the old and new worlds. To me, the scales tipped heavily towards the latter, with new oak, berry blossom, and slightly medicinal aromas. The wine was powerful and assertive, but disjointed, angular and “sweet” – in short, not in a good place at this time.
The above report covers just three days, but these were pretty intense. I can’t claim to have a meaningful grasp of viticulture and winemaking in Chile and I’ve left out most of what I did learn to concentrate on the tasting and, to some extent, the tourism aspects. Summing things up in just a few words is not easy except to say that I’m very glad I went, that I had some fascinating wines, that these were mostly very affordable, and that I encourage anyone thinking about it to go to Chile to discover the wine country for themselves. One last thing: speaking Spanish is not essential since most of the people I met could speak English or French.
There has been a big gap, quite a hiatus in my blog reports, which I intend to bring to a close. This hiatus can be explained by a three-month trip around the world I took with my wife to celebrate a significant wedding anniversary. We went to, in order: the UK, India, Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, Chile, Colombia, Panama, and Mexico.
This was the trip of a lifetime and we even broke the piggy bank and travelled business class. This was very appreciable on long flights such as Syndey to Santiago de Chile (13 hours).
We did a cursory visit of two winegrowing countries, New Zealand and Chile. I will make a brief report on the latter.
Meanwhile, the dust has settled from my trip and I’ll be breathing new life into the blog, so stay tuned.
En Défense des Vins de Bordeaux by Jean-Luc Schilling, Jean Le Gall, and Jean-Paul Kauffmann (interviewed by Isabelle de Cussac) Published in 2024 by Cherche Midi, 312 pages, 21.90 € (or 14.98 € in Kindle format)
Bordeaux Bashing has been going on for some twenty years and sprang from a variety of causes, many unquestionably the fault of the Bordelais, but others due to outside factors or, indeed, to bad faith on the part of detractors.
This book is in three parts. I found the first one, written by Jean-Luc Schilling, who had already written Eloge Immodéré du Vin de Bordeaux published in 2018, to be the most insightful and interesting. His contribution is learned, witty, pugnacious, and thought-provoking. The middle part gives an overview of why Bordeaux Bashing developed, without much depth or innovative analysis. It is nevertheless worthwhile to those who had little understanding of the subject. The last part, an interview with journalist Jean-Paul Kauffman, shares the thoughts of someone long-associated with Bordeaux. Kauffman, the founder of the now-defunct Amateur de Bordeaux magazine, achieved nationwide attention when he was held hostage by Lebanese terrorists for over two years in the 1980s. He famously survived captivity with his sanity intact by reliving his many experiences with great Bordeaux over the years and remembering château visits, winemakers, memorable meals, etc.
The authors trace the start of Bordeaux Bashing back to two things. The first was John Nossiter’s movie Mondovino (2004), in which the Bordelais – as opposed to the genuine, well-meaning, hard-working winegrowers elsewhere – are presented as frivolous, condescending, and entitled. The friendly Burgundians get their hands dirty, drive tractors, and even stomp grapes in their underwear while the Bordealais wear three-piece suits and are light years away from the nitty-gritty of wine production. The movie was a considerable success internationally. On the French scene, two widely-viewed television programs, Cash Investigation in 2016 and Cash Impact in 2018 stigmatized the environmental damage done by pesticides in Bordeaux, strangely not mentioning any other vineyard region. This is one of the reasons that organic and so-called natural wine caught on in France and abroad.
En Défense des Vins de Bordeaux unsurprisingly sees things largely from a French perspective. The perpetual dichotomy between the great growths and the other 95% of Bordeaux is unfortunately not sufficiently examined. The fact that nearly 10,000 hectares of vines have recently been uprooted is only briefly touched upon, with a grudging acknowledgement that many of these were not planted on the best terroirs and that quality on the whole will be improved as a result. References to specific wines, as is so often the case when speaking of Bordeaux, tend to focus on the élite estates. Of course, the erratic pricing of these has legitimately put off many consumers who, reminiscent of Aesop’s “Fox and the Grapes”, turned away or even bad-mouthed wines they could no longer afford, or afford as easily.
In many quarters, especially among the young, Bordeaux acquired a stuffy bourgeois image, a wine their grandfather drank. Meanwhile, of course, other regions all over the world began producing increasingly worthwhile wines that were upfront, fruity, uncomplicated, and inexpensive.
Robert Parker necessarily turns up in all three parts of the book, which recycle the usual myths (Parker “discovered” the 1982 vintage, he is the reason behind “uniform over-oaked and over-extracted wines”, his “unhealthy relationship” with Michel Rolland, etc., etc.). Credit is nevertheless given to Parker, who commanded a position that no critic has ever equalled since. He is especially recognized as having turned Americans on to Bordeaux.
Sadly, as with most other wine regions, the present economic conjuncture is not conducive to sales of Bordeaux. Declining consumption of red wines (90% of production in Bordeaux), can be contrasted with increased sales of whites and rosés. And neo-prohibitionism has reared its ugly head… Meanwhile, climate change calls for different viticultural practices, winemaking, and even new grape varieties. What to think of Bordeaux weighing in at 15+ percent alcohol?
One of the powerful messages in this book is that it is wrong to consider Bordeaux self-satisfied and resistant to change. In fact, the region is tremendously dynamic and always has been. How else can you account for the millions of bottles exported all over the world every year? Another theme, perhaps the most important of all, is the idea that, despite what anyone says, Bordeaux is a classic wine, a byword for elegance, balance, and ageing potential. It will never go out of style. Bordeaux need not blush when compared with wines from anywhere else, and that includes the medium price range. Trends come and go, but a great Médoc or Saint-Emilion represents eternal values that will survive the roller coaster reality of supply and demand.
Buying wine en primeur and waiting 20 or 30 years to drink it may seem contradictory with the 21st century lifestyle. But there are enough discerning wine lovers around the world to perpetuate the tradition, and always will be. Sadly, the book takes only a cursory look at the predicament of the lesser, everyday wines of Bordeaux. But this is forgivable because no one has an easy answer here.
En Défense des Vins de Bordeaux is a quick read in easy-to-understand French. It is a welcome addition to my library of wine books, if not an essential one.
