Bordeaux Wine Blog

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 4^th 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.

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 21^st 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.

It’s hard not to like Château Lagrange, a huge estate with a correspondingly large production. The wine is reliably good and sold at a very reasonable price for a third growth Saint Julien. With some 118 hectares of vines, Lagrange is over 33% larger than an entire Burgundian appellation such as Gevrey Chambertin! It is the biggest of all the classified growths. The sizeable production includes a second wine, Les Fiefs de Lagrange, as well as a white wine, Les Arums.

I’ve never had a great bottle of Lagrange but, then again, I’ve never had a bad one. You basically get what you pay for. The estate has belonged to the Suntory group since 1983 (Suntory also own half of Château Beychevelle).

The nineteenth château is set amidst beautifully landscaped grounds. Immediate neighbors include châteaux Belgrave, Camensac, and Gruaud Larose. I attended a gala dinner at Lagrange when the Japanese had finished their renovation of the château and cellars and wished to welcome the Bordeaux wine trade. No expense had been spared at this event which featured fabulous wines, including Mouton Rothschild for over 200 people.

Anyway, I always have some Château Lagrange in the cellar and decided it was time I checked into the progress of the 2006 vintage, one that is often given short shrift.

At age 18, 2006 Lagrange was starting to show a little bricking. The nose was deep and subtle, but not broad. It featured very Médocain overtones of graphite, blackcurrant, cedar, and forest floor, as well as violet, untanned leather, and truffle nuances.  On the whole, the bouquet was superior to the palate.
The latter features good acidity and loads of Cabernet Sauvignon varietal character, but the tannin is somewhat coarse and the aftertaste is rather dry and unresolved. Oddly enough, an impression of alcohol comes through, although the degree stated on the label is only 13%. I do not think that more cellaring is the answer to evening this wine out. It will always be enjoyable, but with tannins lacking in finesse.

Châtreau Citran is a cru bourgeois located in Avensan, in that part of the Haut-Médoc appellation between Margaux and Saint Julien, inland from Margaux and bordering on Moulis.
This large estate (100 hectares of vines) belonged to the Miailhe family for many years, then to a Japanese group, and finally to the Merlaut family (of Gruaud-Larose, Haut Bages Liberal, Ferrière, Chasse-Spleen, etc.) who have been owners since 1996.

The imposing château building, dating from the 1860s, was designated a listed historic monument by the French government in 2012.

Grape varieties are 50% Merlot, 45% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 5% Cabernet Franc and the wine sees 30% new oak each vintage.

Producing some 350,000 bottles of wine a year, Citran is a well-known inexpensive Médoc. Peacocks wandering around the château grounds account for an illustration of on the label.

2016 is a great vintage and the finest Bordeaux are still far from their peak. However, I was tempted to open up this mid-range wine to have with Sunday lunch.

I decanted the wine (little sediment) two hours before a meal of roast lamb.

The color was very deep, along with purple and the beginning of bricking on the rim. On the whole, it looked younger than its age. The nose was unmistakably Médoc – suave, with hints of blackcurrant, prune, lead pencil, dark chocolate and forest floor. This bouquet was not particularly deep, but very satisfying.
The wine was rather different on the palate. The initial roundness gave way to a very assertive taste with teeth-coating tannin and marked acidity.  The overall impression was of a medium-bodied, slightly rustic wine from the Margaux appellation. There were attractive cassis nuances, but also a certain greenness.
I had expected a more easy-going, commercial sort of wine and instead encountered a relatively uncompromising old-fashioned Médoc that is still a few years away from its peak.
That a wine in this price bracket can show such character and potential speaks well for Bordeaux.

This 2016 Citran is also an excellent example of a wine that, if taken on its own, might be judged harshly, but that comes into its own at a meal.
I might add that the wine was not nearly as interesting aromatically the next day, although the tannin was noticeably softer.

Sometimes, there’s a silly sniping match between those of us who prefer Bordeaux to Burgundy or vice versa. In fact, insofar as such a conflict exists, it is really quite absurd. And there is no reason whatsoever one cannot like both.
That is certainly so with me.

Seen from Bordeaux, Burgundy is by no means a wine be denigrated. In fact, it is largely an unknown element, and the good stuff is hard to find locally. The white wines are acknowledged to be unequalled.

Last Saturday my wife and I put on a tasting dinner accompanied by wines from the Côte d’Or.
The food consisted of a salade tiède of scallops in a Caribbean-style sauce followed by roast capon.

Many wine dinners start off with Champagne so, being traditional and predictable, I served

Champagne de Souza, Caudalie, Blanc de Blancs grand cru was the non-vintage version purchased about 5 years ago. Consisting of 100% Chardonnay (50% from Avise) and partially aged in oak casks, this cuvée has a good reputation. While it was certainly very dry, clean, and mineral, I came away a little disappointed. It lacked oomph and fruit.

The next one up, 2009 Champagne Georges Vesselle, was a very different animal. At age 15 it was in its prime and proved to be in a rich, aromatic, and ever-so-slightly oxidized mold. The nose was exquisite and the wine shone on the palate. I must seek out this producer again.

Two white Burgundies followed.

2018, Beaune blanc1er cru Les Grèves, Caroline Morey had a quintessentially Burgundian nose of hazelnut and matchstick that showed extremely well at age 6. The wine was slender, bright, and fresh on the palate, a very well-crafted white wine to enjoy now or in a few years.

2015 Corton Charlemagne, grand cru, Louis Latour was a heavy hitter. And I say heavy partly because of the weightiness on the palate. The style here was old-fashioned and big. While the Beaune Blanc may have had a more expressive nose, the Corton Chalemagne had breadth, length, and gravitas. Very enjoyable now, the aromatics would probably benefit from further ageing.

Then it was on to the reds:

2015 Chassagne Montrachet rouge, 1er cru Baudriotte, domaine Jean-Claude Ramonet: Famous for his white wines, this producer is evidently no slouch either when it comes to reds.
It is much to the credit of producers in Chassagne like Ramonet who maintain red wine varieties on soil that is well-suited to them rather than to plant more profitable Chardonnay.
Anyway, this wine was “medium” in many ways: color, bouquet, and palate. It was also, in my opinion, time to drink up. In short, I would say this was in the “good to very good” category.

2014 Chambolle Musigny 1er cru Les Charmes, Domaine Patrice Rion proved to be in another style. While there were engaging black fruit aromas on the nose, the wine was tight, ungracious, and curiously tannic on the palate. The balance was such that more cellaring will not even things out significantly.

2011 Echézeaux, grand cru, Domaine Emmanuel Rouget. Ah, a grand cru from a hot shot producer, nephew of the famous Henri Jayer! This was purchased at a tenth of the going price…
2011 is not such a great year in Burgundy, but the pedigree of this wine showed through with a silky texture and fine breeding. This was a feminine Vosne of considerable beauty and drinking well right now. The aftertaste was marvellous and it ended the flight of reds with a bang and convinced those of us unfamiliar with red Burgundy that there is much good there J.

We had a 1983 unfiltered Late Bottled Vintage Port from Ramos Pinto with dessert. I had bought several bottles of this at a knock-down price and this was my last one. It provided ticked the right boxes and no one came close to guessing its age, or the style of Port.

Château Cantemerle is a large estate (94 hectares) that has long had a loyal following. This is due in no small part to the fact that they have always sold their wine at reasonable prices and enjoyed an excellent reputation for value (price quality ratio). Cantemerle is a fifth growth that almost didn’t make it into the 1855 classification because most of the wine was exported directly to the Netherlands, thereby bypassing the usual system of brokers and négociants. It was, however, added later that same year.
Located in Macau, Cantemerle is close to the Margaux appellation, and this proximity clearly shows through in the wine, which is on the lighter side, with considerable elegance.

I recently opened up a bottle of 2010 Cantemerle and was not disappointed. I decanted it three hours before the meal.

The wine had an impressive super-dark colour, only just beginning to show some bricking.
The bouquet was wonderful, probably the best part of the wine. This showed marked graphite and floral (violet) overtones, as well as forest floor nuances. Unquestionably classy.

Although enjoyable, the palate didn’t quite live up to the nose. While light on its feet, the wine lacked balance to some degree. This is to say that the initial impression was smooth, but the middle palate dropped and the tannin on the finish was somewhat grainy, tough, and dry. The body was on the light side. Obviously, the question with Bordeaux is: will things improve with age? In my opinion, they will to some extent, but never undergo a noteworthy change.

Despite the above paragraph giving a slightly negative spin, this 2010 Cantemerle was a very good bottle of wine and an affordable treat. Furthermore, a recent visit there showed that quality at this estate is on the up-and-up, so Cantemerle continues to be a sure-fire bet.

I’ve been a bit lax with my posts of late, but assure you that the blog is alive and well. My most recent absence is due to a long walk on the Camino de Santiago. I had gone on this pilgrimage twice before, once in Spain and again in Portugal, but thought it was high time to experience the French portion, which I went on in September, starting out in Le-Puy-en-Velay and ending in the town of Conques in the Aveyron department .

The French camino goes through some of the most rural and isolated parts of the country such as the Aubrac region. This means that pilgrims generally opt for half board at dormitories since there is nowhere else to eat nearby. The cusine in that part of France is hearty and filling, as typified by aligot, a dish made from mashed potatoes blended with butter, cream, crushed garlic, and melted cheese. You definitely need some wine to wash this down and, more importantly, digest it. Unfortunately, everywhere I went served mediocre or even bad wine. This meant that one of the first things I did when I got home was to open a bottle of good Bordeaux!

There is a part of my cellar where bottles that are ready to go are stood up and easy to access. 2018 Château l’Hêtre caught my eye and I wasted no time in opening and decanting it. I might add that I pretty systematically decant Bordeaux, as much to separate the wine from its sediment as to aerate it.
Along with Fronsac, Castillon offers some of the most underestimated good-value wines in Bordeaux. Geologically, it is pretty much an extension of Saint-Emilion – the frontier had to be drawn somewhere! The AOC Castillon Côtes de Bordeaux has 1,850 hectares of vines. Prices tend to be very reasonable and the wines are enjoyable young. What’s not to like?

The Thienpont family of Belgium has deep roots in Bordeaux, with branches owning vineyards in various parts of the Right Bank or making wine at other prestigious estates there. The story of Château l’Hêtre dates back to the last decade, when Jacques Thienpont and his sister, Anne Raeymaeker decided to buy Château Goubau from another Belgian family. There were 10 hectares of vines at the time, which have since increased with the purchase of the adjoining Château Montagne.

There is a story behind the name L’Hêtre. The Thienpont family also own the famous “Le Pin” (meaning “the pine tree”) in Pomerol and the up-and-coming “L’If” (meaning “the yew tree”) in Saint-Emilion. Continuing the arboreal theme, Le Hêtre is French for “beech tree”. It is spelled “L’Hêtre” to be a play on words since “être” is the verb “to be”. Furthermore, the second wine is called “La Raison d’Hêtre”.
The first vintage of L’Hêtre made by the Thienpont family was in 2016. Jacques’ nephew Maxime is in charge of production. The wine consists of 95% Merlot.

So, what of the 2018? At age 6 it featured a dark purplish-red color and a plummy nose of ripe Merlot. The flavor was rich and generous, fruity and ready to go with enough of an aftertaste to make this a serious wine. Enjoyed with a simple meal, it was a wonderful welcome back home and a worthwhile reacquaintance with the wines of Castillon. I’m willing to bet that we will be hearing more about L’Hêtre in years to come.