Jean Gautreau, a wine broker turned négociant, bought a tiny, little-known, and much-neglected vineyard in the northern Médoc in 1969. These 5 hectares of vines in Saint-Seurin-de-Cadourne, just north of Saint Estèphe, have since grown to 83 hectares and the estate has gone on to a earn a stellar reputation.
Sociando Mallet (54% Merlot, 42% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 4% Cabernet Franc) is located quite close to the Gironde Estuary, making for a very temperate microclimate. The terroir consists of gravel soil overlaying a deep clay-limestone subsoil. The vines are an average of 35 years old.
I have only visited the château once, at which time I was impressed at how well-maintained everything (buildings, landscaping, vines, cellars…) was. I did a horizontal tasting that proved the wine’s excellent regularity, even in so-called off years. I would describe Sociando Mallet as a Médoc lovers Médoc, not one for label drinkers. Prices are definitely in the affordable range, and the wine represents very good value for money. Sociando Mallet is so well-known at this point that they decided not to submit their candidacy for inclusion in the cru bourgeois classification.
A week ago, I opened a bottle of 2000 Sociando Mallet, decanting it two hours before the meal. The color was beautifully deep and lustrous. The nose was ultra-classic, showing the hallmarks of fine Médoc: pencil shavings, humus, essence of blackcurrant, and incense. The wine was almost as good on the palate, with smooth, resolved tannin and a cool long aftertaste. At age 24, this Sociando Mallet from a great vintage was at its peak and as good as many a bottle of classified growths I’ve had, even if the depth and length did not quite qualify it for the uppermost echelon.
Jean Gautreau died in 2019, but his name lives on in a special cuvée of Sociando Mallet amounting to 3 special barrels per vintage. I do not know this wine, but have one bottle each from the 2005, 2009, and 2016 vintages and am looking forward to trying them.
The Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux organizes a Weekend des Grands Crus every year in the city of Bordeaux as well as in the wine country. This is open to the general public and is a great way not only to taste 2 vintages of world-famous wines (one shared by all producers and another of their choice), but also to meet the château owners or their representatives.
d’Armailhacq N: Toasty oak with cherry/vanilla overtones. P: Altogether more expressive on the palate. This is a big, strong, assertive, and virile Pauillac, but elegance and balance are there as well. Confirms the estate’s recent improvement. Fresh, with great fruit, a long aftertaste dominated by blackcurrant, and black olive overtones on the tail end. Already very attractive and will make for fine mid-term drinking. Good to very good.
Beychevelle N: Discrete subtle bouquet with blackberry and throat lozenge aromas. Elegant. P: Seems a bit thin at first, but this is a mistaken impression. Great quintessentially Médoc cassis flavors. Lively and buoyant. Not a big wine, but one with a fine backbone, as well as a refreshing and classic aftertaste. Very good.
Branaire Ducru N: Dark chocolate and blackstrap molasses. Subtle wildberry nose, but without much depth at this stage. P: Starts out round and rich, but then shows surprising acidity for an unusual balance. Brambly. Good textured aftertaste with some leather nuances. Good to very good.
Grand Puy Ducasse N: Roast coffee in spades! This overshadows the fruit. The nose is also a little green. P: A big mouthful of wine. Chunky then acidic. Relatively unbalanced. Dry finish with some bitterness. I keep hoping this château will do better. OK
Gruaud Larose N: Surprisingly little oak. Fine berry fuit, fresh and, above all, understated. Needs time to open. P: Far more expressive on the palate. Fresh, assertive Médoc fruit. Bright, with good length, albeit a bit dry and oaky at present. In the classic mold. A great reflection of its terroir. Good to very good.
Haut Batailley N: Soft, but reveals disappointingly little at this time. P: Better on the palate. Rich, with a licorice flavor. Although not very impressive on the attack, the wine unfolds into a textbook Pauillac with a very good long brambly finish. Good.
Lagrange N: A little confected, with candied red fruit aromas. Not much there really, and one-dimensional. P: Comes off better on the palate, but this is not one of the best Saint Juliens tasted. A little harsh and acidic. This acidity will help it to age, of course, but the wine ought to be smoother and richer. There’s nothing wrong here, just nothing special. OK
Langoa Barton N: Very natural and unadulterated with far less oak than others. Understated. Not very forthcoming as yet, but with some notes of black cherry liqueur. P: Thirst quenching. Pure, satisfying, and well-made, but curiously short. Well-made, just not outstanding in the context.. Good
Léoville Barton N: Very low profile. Bit dumb, but what’s there is promising. Ethereal and intriguing. Touch of mint and camphor. P: Tight, resonant, pure, and with a long velvety aftertaste. Not rich, but will age beautifully. The fruit has been magnificently locked-in. Very good, and one of the stars of this tasting.
Léoville Poyferré N: Fruit forward, fresh, very Cabernet nose. Some coffee/vanilla notes, but not overoaked. More black than red fruit. P: Good acidity and raspberry flavor. Long tangy finish. Neither rich, alcoholic, nor top-heavy. Bit old-fashioned. Classic. The oak comes through more on the finish. Very good.
Lynch Bages N: In accordance with the château profile. Soft, pure, blackcurrant and black cherry aromas. Clean and precise. P: Not a big wine, and the element of purity on the nose comes through on the palate. Good acidity reminiscent of a less-than-stellar year. Unusually, cedar more than oak flavors on the finish. Quintessence of cassis. Good grip, but a little short on the aftertaste. A feminine Lynch Bages? Good to very good.
Pichon Baron N: Sweet and concentrated, but not at all in a New World sort of way. Typical Pauillac bouquet featuring some cedar/cigar box aromas. P: Lovely full-bodied mouthful of wine. Big, with a great velvety aftertaste showing just a little heat. Really tremendously long and fresh, with heaps of blackcurrant and a mineral finish. Very good plus, perhaps my favorite wine of the tasting.
Pichon Comtesse N: Meaty, with hints of maraschino cherry, and underdeveloped at this stage. P: This vintage is strongly marked by Cabernet Sauvignon. Fine structure and a long velvety uncompromising aftertaste. Made to age for many years. Very good.
Saint Pierre N: Candied red fruit nose along with lovely evanescent black cherry. Seductive. P: Open, upfront, and uncomplicated, in a popular commercial sort of ways. Bit hollow and halfway towards a modern style. Good value for money. Good.
Talbot N: Very toasty oak! Wildberry and forest fruit nose. Needs time and oxygenation to come out, which is why young wines in newly-opened bottles can sometimes give a misleading impression. P: Big, chunky, and typical of its appellation. Long, slightly harsh aftertaste. Uncompromising. Fresh, but lacks softness and richness. Little weak on the middle palate. A strong, characterful Saint Julien. The long aftertaste redeems a relatively lacklustre wine. This is long with some black olive nuances. Good.
Wine lovers as old as me have always had a great deal of respect and love for Château Figeac, even if we were led to believe that it was Saint Emilion’s version of a “super-second”, stuck in a sort of limbo between the premiers grand crus B and the A group at the tip of the pyramid. It seemed a pity that Figeac was refused promotion with each successive classification when increasing numbers of wine lovers and trade professionals acknowledged its impressive progress. As time went on, Figeac has gone from strength to strength, and was finally been promoted to A status in the 2022 classification. This leaves only two châteaux, Pavie and Figeac, in the A category since Ausone and Cheval Blanc have withdrawn altogether – not without controversy.
Discussing the Saint Emilion classification in Bordeaux is as lively a pastime as it once was to weigh the influence of Robert Parker on the market and the way wines are made. As contentious as the classification is, it must be admitted that it allows up-and-coming estates to receive the recognition they deserve.
Figeac’s upgrade made me want to taste an aged bottle to see if it was up to snuff. Does Figeac really deserve the top spot? So I brought out a bottle of 2000, making sure to give it proper care and attention: standing it up weeks beforehand, opening it three hours in advance of the meal and decanting it one hour prior to serving. I had friends over to dinner, and do not take notes at table, but I can confirm that this was a beauty of a wine, in its drinking window, with a lovely bouquet redolent of black fruit and violet, as well as a suave, velvety flavor profile, along with a soft, very long aftertaste. I was delighted by the wine’s sheer elegance and would love to pit it against 2000 Cheval Blanc down the line. The estate’s promotion, to my mind, seems fully justified. 2000 was a much heralded vintage but it has had to compete with three other years for best of the decade: 2005, 2009, and 2010. I’m not qualified to give a learned opinion about this, but can confirm that, at age 22, many 2000s are drinking well now.
Spiffy new cellars at Château Figeac
I think that comparisons between Cheval Blanc and Figeac will become increasingly frequent. Of course, the former was once part of the large Figeac estate and they border on one another. Both châteaux share somewhat similar soils, with the significant presence of gravel, in what used to be rather simplistically called “Les Graves Saint Emilion” (as opposed to the Plateau and the Côtes). Figeac has roughly one third of each grape variety – Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot. Cheval Blanc, on the other hand, has approximately 52% Cabernet Franc, 43% Merlot, and 5% Cabernet Sauvignon. Figeac has 54 hectares of vines and Cheval Blanc 39, but the latter has recently undergone expansion. Figeac has been owned by the same family since 1892, whereas Cheval Blanc is jointly owned by Bernard Arnauld of LVMH and the family of the late Belgian banker Albert Frère.
I have one bottle of 2000 Figeac left. I am in no hurry to drink it and, who knows, maybe I may be able to compare it with Cheval Blanc from the same year one day…
Chai Mica is a play on words. Chai (a word meaning wine cellar, rather than cave, in the west of France) is pronounced the same way as “chez” and Mica is short for “Michael”, as in Michaël Llodra, who founded the business. I say business because Chez Mica, is more than just a shop. It is also a showroom, tasting venue, and office for a thriving fine wine business.
Michaël, in his early forties, is a former professional tennis player who has long loved fine wine. His associate, Christophe Jacquemin-Sablon, has sales experience with Roederer Champagne and managed Pétrus for 6 years.
Christophe Jacquemin-Sablon & Michaël Llodra
To begin with, their business model was limited to helping winelovers without the time or expertise to build up a cellar, starting with a budget of 10,000 euros. This venture was enhanced by the fact that Burgundy, in particular, is a very difficult wine to purchase, and because Michaël had established close links there, succeeding in obtaining allocations as rare a hen’s teeth from some of the region’s most famous domaines.
But, let’s focus on the shop. Chez Mica is located at 13 rue Michel de Montaigne in Bordeaux. This is inside what the Bordelais refer to as the Golden Triangle formed by three streets – Cours Clemenceau, the Allées de Tourny, and Cours de l’Intendance – with the circular Place des Grands Hommes in the middle. This is in the heart of the city, where the chicest boutiques are located.
Featuring wines from some 70 Burgundian domaines, as well as Corsica, Piedmont, the Rhone, and even a few Bordeaux (!) the shop opened six months. As a long time Bordeaux resident, I was totally amazed to discover a place featuring such a fine choice of Burgundy. This is indeed proof that the navel-gazing attitude so prevalent in the past has changed. And, contrary to popular belief, the Bordelais do not look down their noses at Burgundy – it’s that they simply do not know it.
Until recently, fine Burgundy was difficult to find locally. That has now changed thanks to Chai Mica.
The shop also started a club two years ago prior to the opening of the shop. A membership fee entitles members to take part in ten tasting dinners a year with famous winemakers (Olivier Krug is scheduled in November) as well as a reduction on their purchases. Members are located in France and abroad.
I was particularly struck by the breadth of Chai Mica’s selection of village wines, proving that, if carefully chosen, good Burgundy can still be relatively affordable. The range of premier and grand crus is fascinating and I defy anyone who loves the wines of the Côte d’Or not to at least salivate, if not give into temptation…
Among other domaines, you can find the wines of Bruno Clair, Comtes Lafon, de Montille, Sauzet, Carillon (a member of the family works at the shop), Roulot, Lafarge, Arlaud, Clos de Tart, Dujac, Mugnier, Trapet, Méo-Camuzet, etc.
Chai Mica does not sell over the Internet, so you’ll have to visit the shop to see their wonderful range of wines . Prices are reasonable.
Six of us from several countries (Bordeaux is great for that!) enjoyed a dinner with great wines this past week.
We started off with a prestigious Champagne. I love Champagne as an aperitif, can drink it with food in a pinch, but downright dislike it with dessert (a common practice in France). In any event, this 1996 Grande Dame was brought out in honor of a Japanese-American friend who will be working on and off with Veuve Clicquot in the near future. La Grande Dame (60% Pinot Noir/40% Chardonnay) is their top wine and 1996 is considered a great vintage. At a quarter of a century, the wine was a deep amber-gold, definitely showing its age. The bead was tiny and still relatively vigorous. The bouquet was oxidative, with nutty, predominantly Chardonnay aromas. In true Veuve style, the wine was quite rich on the palate. In France, such old Champagnes are said to correspond to “le goût anglais”. Although I liked the wine, I’d have preferred it ten years ago.
Next up was an oddball wine, served blind, as were the remaining two. This was the 2015 white Château du Tertre. There was no hope of anyone guessing this since it consists of a very unusual blend of grape varieties: 42% Chardonnay, 31% Gros Manseng, 16% Viognier, and 11% Sauvignon Blanc. For that reason, it can only be sold as “Vin de France”, even though it comes entirely from du Tertre, a classified growth in Arsac (AOC Margaux).
In fact, this white proved to be more of a curiosity than a fine wine. It was rather hard to pin down and was somewhat tired even at 6 years of age. Still, it was an enjoyable discovery.
We sat back and tried to name all the white wines produced in Margaux and came up with chx. Margaux, Cantenac Brown, Palmer, Prieuré Lichine and, of course, du Tertre.
There seems to be a certain amount of revisionism going on about recent great vintages. 2000 was much heralded, made out to be the bee’s knees, and inevitably labelled the “vintage of the century” (already…). However, preferences are now being voiced for 2005, 2009, and 2010. Who’s right? As usual, vintage ratings need to be nuanced, not only based on Left Bank/Right Bank criteria, but also the performance of individual estates.
Be that is it may, I enjoy the 2000 great growths tremendously, and find that at age 21 most are drinking well now.
Anyway, these two heavy hitters from Pomerol have a loyal following and I was delighted with both of them.
Vieux Château Certan is owned by the Belgian Thienpont family who also have their fingers in several other Bordeaux pies, including the rare and famous Le Pin. Unassuming Alexandre Thienpont is a perfectionist who has done much to enhance the estate’s reputation.
2000 VCC showed extremely well in August 2021, and most of us around the table felt that it was on its plateau, feeling that, although it will be enjoyable for years to come, it is as good now as it ever will be. Appearing older than the Trotanoy, it featured a divine bouquet with spicy notes and complex, ethereal aromatics along with the inevitable hint of truffle. On bouquet alone, 2000 VCC probably edged out Trotanoy of the same vintage. But as we shall see, Totanoy has not said its last word… Anyway, 2000 VCC’s innate elegance came through on the palate as well, but in a, dare I say, feminine, Margaux-like way. We enjoyed the wine with grilled veal chops and chanterelle mushrooms, but I could see how a wine like this could partner the very greatest creations of French cuisine due to its tremendous class. The aftertaste was fresh, soft, and evanescent, like the bouquet.
We did well to taste 2000 Trotanoy after the VCC because the former was a much bigger wine. If we believe what’s printed on the labels, alcoholic degree does not explain everything here. The nose of the Trotanoy was very concentrated with sweet black fruit and earthy overtones. It was quite seductive, if more obvious than the VCC. 2000 Trotanoy was a revelation on the palate, with a wonderful velvety texture and plenty of body and richness. I might allocate demerit points based on an impression of alcohol, but also give this a fair chance of integrating with further age. However, the wine clearly will always be imposing – not that this precludes the refinement one expects from top tier Pomerol. The aftertaste was long and powerful.
The bottom line is that the competition between these two Pomerols was a draw. That being said, the same match in ten years’ time would probably yield different results, in my opinion.
For what it’s worth, here is the area under vine of three famous Pomerol estates:
Pétrus: 11.5 hectares
Trotanoy: 7 hectares
Vieux Château Certan: 14 hectares
Trotanoy’s second wine is called L’Espérance
VCC’s second wine is La Gravette.
Both are good value for money.
Never heard of a second wine for Pétrus.
Bordeaux is in a bad way. Oh, I’m not referring to the famous châteaux coveted by wine lovers around the world. I’m talking about the 55% of total production sold under the Bordeaux and Bordeaux Supérieur appellations. This ad in the local Sud-Ouest newspaper on March 10th by the German supermarket group Lidl promotes so-called “award winning” Bordeaux at 1.69 euros a bottle! If you deduct all the fixed costs from beginning to end, what amount can that possibly leave for winegrowers (seeing as it is forbidden to sell under cost price on the retail end)?
The “gold medal” in question is from two French journalists who, in my opinion, should be ashamed of themselves. Their ratings are widely reputed to be based on payments received… In addition, the same ad was run in France’s largest circulation newspaper, Le Monde, showing that the wine in question must be available throughout the country. Putting aside the notion of quality for a moment, how can a blend of such gigantic proportions be considered homogeneous enough to earn a medal?
The rock bottom sales price and misleading medal do an injustice to Bordeaux.
A statistic I recently saw floored me: some 10% of an average crop of Bordeaux wine – we’re talking hundreds of thousands of hectolitres – were distilled last year to make biofuel, paid for by EU and French government subsidies.
Something is very wrong here.
Beaujolais was in a similarly bad predicament not so long ago, with terrible press. But they picked themselves up by the bootstraps and things are better there now.
The French have always been wary of free markets, especially in areas as politically sensitive as agriculture. And city dwellers, who make up most of the population, have a nostalgic, protective attitude towards farmers and winegrowers. It has therefore been expedient for successive governments to avoid the root problem and placate the wine industry. Of course, this cannot go on forever because the situation is clearly unsustainable.
The causes of this sad state of affairs are multiple, but playing the blame game gets no one anywhere. I hope the powers-that-be react intelligently and effectively to find a way to bring supply and demand closer together. No one says that this will be easy, but the present impasse can only last for so long… There is much at stake, but particularly the future of entire swathes of the Bordeaux region’s agricultural land and the families who earn their livelihood from it. The name Bordeaux can bring to mind images of impressive châteaux and self-satisfied négociants, but the truth is that most of the wines are made at modest estates run by hardworking men and women who barely earn a living wage. And their children are increasingly disinclined to take over the family estate…
There are many, many fine examples of entry level Bordeaux. It is therefore heartbreaking to see the whole category rejected by so many opinion leaders, buyers, and consumers. The Bordeaux establishment must face up to the fact that there are simply too many sub-standard wines out there – and do something about it. While timid efforts have been made in the past, these need to be seriously stepped up. Likewise, marketing and promotional budgets should be significantly increased. Alas, there are no quick fixes here… On the commercial end, brand building and the promotion of quality wines from petits châteaux, cooperatives, and négociants needs to be encouraged by every possible means – and thin, weedy wines refused the right to be called Bordeaux.
Of course, there is no easy answer to a problem with such deep roots. I champion Bordeaux at all levels and sincerely hope that things will improve. The potential to do so is unquestionably there.
As reported in the Feb. 12th issue of the local newspaper, le Sud-Ouest, the 2020 sales figures for Bordeaux wines have just been released. And they are not encouraging. The Gironde department sold 3.9 million hectoliters (the equivalent of 522 million bottles) of wine last year. This was 5% less than in 2019 in volume and 12% less in value (for a total of 3.5 billion euros).
Supermarket sales in France, by far the largest distribution vector for that market, fell by 4%. It did not help that the country’s huge restaurant and café sector has been closed for months.
Exports, which account for about half of all sales of Bordeaux, were down 3% in volume and 14% in value. These figures confirm that Bordeaux has experienced a third year of crisis in a row. The structural reasons are well-known: fewer people shopping in supermarkets, a drop in sales of red wine, difficulties on the Chinese market, customs barriers in the US and, of course, the Covid pandemic. With regard to America, while the volume of exports actually increased by 1% in 2020, value was down by a huge 29%. Despite Brexit, shipments to the UK were up 6% by volume, although a certain amount of that involved stocking up before Britain officially left the EU on Dec. 31st.
In order to cope with overproduction, some 550,000 hectoliters of Bordeaux wine, i.e. 10% of a normal vintage, were distilled in the past few months thanks to EU subsidies. Uprooting vines is now an option being seriously considered.
Sales for the last three months of the 2020 were better than the same period the previous year, so there is some ground for hope. But the medium-term obstacles remain challenging. Some serious soul-searching and decision-making needs to be done. Of course, certain market segments are suffering more than others, with the great growths being in a separate and less-threatened category. Also, the value of French wines and spirits exports on the whole were down by 14% last year. So Bordeaux is not alone in having a difficult time.
I can remember a time when Léoville Las Cases was hell-bent on bursting from its “super-second” status to attain virtual, if not official, first growth status. And the price hikes were there to prove it. However, this was not to be. Was/is this due to the wine’s intrinsic quality, or rather a deep-seated conservatism with regard to the 1855 classification?
I’ve not had an aged Las Cases up against up, let’s say a Latour from the same vintage, but I am sorely tempted to do so in the near future. If so, I’ll let you know J.
Be this as it may, Léoville Las Cases is unquestionably one of the finest wines of the Médoc. This was confirmed at a friend’s house yesterday. He served the 1966 and 1975 vintages blind at lunch (there are curfews here, so dinner is out of the question). I was off by twenty years for the former, which was served first because my host felt that it is better to go from lighter and/or less tannic to heavier and/or more tannic rather than in the more orthodox reverse chronological order.
I don’t take notes at table, but I recall a wine whose color was more youthful than its 55 years, and a still fresh nose of ethereal blackcurrant and graphite. The wine was also quite vital on the palate, with thoroughly resolved tannin and a soft elegance having little to do with the château’s more muscular style in certain years. The aftertaste was deliciously long and refreshing, exhibiting pure class.
The 1975 was more in that muscular mold and there was still something slightly unforgiving about it, which has often said of the vintage. There was also a touch of TCA, but not enough to ruin the wine by any means. I think that even if there hadn’t been any, it still wouldn’t have been a match for the 1966. You could definitely appreciate this lovely old claret, but on this day the 1966 won our hearts, and it is always comforting when the stalwarts prove that they are up to their reputation.
When I first began drinking French wines many years ago, ones from the northern Médoc were sold under the name “Bas Médoc”. However, the French word “bas” means “lower” and has a negative connotation (even though Bas-Armagnac is considered the best part of the appellation…), so the name was changed to simply Médoc, and professionals now refer to the region as Nord Médoc.
The prices for both vineyard land and wine drop somewhat precipitously once you go north of Saint-Estèphe (or, more exactly, the next town up, Saint-Seurin-de-Cadourne, where Sociando Mallet is located). The market expects wines from the Nord Médoc to be inexpensive, rather early maturing, sturdy, and reliable – not earthshaking. And there are certainly plenty to choose from since there are some 5,800 hectares of vines…
Unfortunately, not many names stand out, partly because there are surprisingly few links here with the famous crus classés further south, notwithstanding exceptions such as Léoville Las Cases and Potensac (which came into the Delon family by marriage) and Cos d’Estournel’s Goulée. This is in contrast to the classified growths of Saint Emilion and their many sister estates in outlying districts (satellites, Castillon, Lalande de Pomerol, etc.).
I first heard about Clos Manou from French friends, who are often aware of good wines that are little-known in English-speaking countries. I tasted and very much enjoyed the wine, so thought it would be worthwhile to make the hour and a half trek from Bordeaux to Saint-Christoly to visit the estate and chat with the owner, Stéphane Dief.
Stéphane and Françoise Dief
The French use the English expression “un self-made man”, which pretty much describes Stéphane Dief. He is a local son whose father sold wine for the Marquis de Saint-Estèphe cooperative. Stéphane worked a while for a wine broker, then decided to quit and produce his own wine. The original vineyard was handkerchief-size. Although not actually a “clos”, or walled vineyard, the name was chosen because it reflected the tiny scale, and Manou is the nickname given to Stéphane by his sister.
Stéphane’s first vintage – 600 bottles – was in 1998. He has since painstakingly built up vineyard holdings to 18 hectares comprising 55 separate plots. He does not wish to expand much further. The estate has three different sorts of terroir: gravel and clay, sand, and clay-limestone. The nearby Gironde estuary has a tempering influence and there is never frost. The breakdown of grape varieties is 43% Cabernet Sauvignon, 53% Merlot, 2% Cabernet Franc, and 2% Petit Verdot. The vines are farmed virtually organically (no pesticides, fungicides, or herbicides), but Stéphane is not interested in certification. By the same token, he has never sought cru bourgeois classification. His vines are trained rather low and density is high (10,000 vines per hectare). He does not believe in green harvesting, nor is he afraid of largish yields seeing as the quality of the wine proves that they are in no way detrimental. The grapes are picked into small crates and sorted three times before crushing. Stéphane is a firm believer in pigeage and, unusually, practices bâtonnage to give the wine more volume. Very little sulphur is used in winemaking.
The cellars at Clos Manou are in several parts and seem extremely well-kept. There is even a room devoted to housing amphora and 16 concrete “eggs”. Stéphane feels that the latter add unique freshness and richness. About 70 to 75% of the grand vin (Clos Manous) is barrel aged, and between 60 and 70% of barrels are new, with a light toast. The Clos Manou vineyard and winemaking team also looks after three other estates.
One day, a neighboring winegrower offered to sell Clos Manou a small plot with very old vines the owner felt sure would need to be uprooted and replaced. As it turns out, these were ungrafted pre-phylloxera vines (80% Merlot) and when Stéphane bought the plot, he decided to make a special cuvée from them named 1850. This wine receives very high praise from Jane Anson in her recently-published book, “Inside Bordeaux”. Stéphane was kind enough to give me a bottle of this rare wine which I will drink at a later date.
Clos Manou is distributed via the Place de Bordeaux (available to major négociants). About 60% is now exported and 20% is sold directly to private customers in France. While costing more than wine from nearby estates, Clos Manou is still a bargain and one of the brightest stars in its appellation – the sort of wine to serve to your friends blind and surprise them.
The 2016 Clos Manou received a Coup de Cœur (“Special Favorite”) rating in the 2020 Guide Hachette des Vins.
No description of Clos Manou would be complete without mentioning their unusual label. This depicts an elephant bending down and sticking its tusks between a stack of wooden wine cases. The story here is that Stéphane saw the original painting by a Breton artist at a local exhibition and purchased it. It now hangs on the tasting room wall of and has been reproduced on the label since 2009.
I tasted several wines while at Clos Manou:
2017 Petit Manou (second wine) had a simple, but attractive bouquet and a fresh, crunchy, raspberry flavor. Nice easy drinking. 2015 Clos Manou had elegant oak and quintessential Médoc aromas. It showed plenty of volume and lovely texture on the palate, as well as a long aftertaste. It is already showing well, though will obviously benefit from further ageing. 2016 Clos Manou had a sophisticated bouquet along with great structure, a sensual mouthfeel, and lively acidity. Something truly special. I ended the tasting with 2018 Clos Manou, which had just been bottled. I quite liked this despite its rather massive structure and 15% alc./vol. There was something rich, chewy, and meaty here with marked Merlot characteristics. Although a touch hot, I could see this going beautifully with hearty food on a cold day.
It is so easy to criticize, to come onto the scene after the fact and tell others what they ought to have done – to be, as the French say, un inspecteur de travaux finis… This is very tempting with the 2019 en primeur campaign, which is navigating in uncharted waters and progressing in a way that is not always easy to understand. However, the corina virus pandemic has necessarily imposed a radical departure from past campaigns, and the powers-that-be in Bordeaux are reacting as well as they can.
There are three main dilemmas facing the 2019 vintage today.
The first involves the barrel tastings of the new vintage. For many years, these have taken place in late March/early April and have been a resounding success, like nothing else in the world of wine. Wine professionals from all over the world routinely attend. The problem this year is that the tastings had to be cancelled in extremis.
Château owners have decided to rebound as best they can. For instance, a mammoth tasting of the 2019s will be held in Bordeaux on the 5th of June for some 450 French négociants, brokers, and journalists. In addition, the Union des Grands Crus will host tastings in Paris, Brussels, Zurich, and Hong Kong (none planned so far in London or New York). The famous châteaux will welcome visiting professionals starting in June, but will be taking every precaution: social distancing, gloved staff, disinfection, groups limited to 8 people, etc.
This response is to be admired, and once again proves the resiliency of the Bordeaux wine trade. However, it is not without its problems and challenges.
The networking that is part and parcel of the en primeur tastings will be sorely missed. Foreign buyers travel to Bordeaux not just to taste hundreds of wines like robots. They also come to learn about the state of the market, as well as to meet producers, merchants, competitors, etc.
There is a technical aspect to this as well. What about wines sent abroad and the conditions under which they are tasted? Samples are refreshed every single day at the en primeur tastings in Bordeaux. But what about those in foreign capitals?
As opposed to group tastings organized by the Union des Grands Crus, individual châteaux are also sending a scattering of samples to clients and noted critics. If these arrive very shortly after shipment, there is, of course, no reason they cannot be professionally evaluated. However, the whole point of en primeur tastings is to compare wines! If four châteaux from, let’s say, Saint-Julien send samples, which arrive on different days and are tasted separately, an extremely important frame of reference has been eliminated. Results are biased. And if the four samples are kept back to be tasted together, they will not be in the same condition.
I agree with many of my friends in the wine business that it would have been a better idea to hold the tastings in Bordeaux in September rather than June in light of the many restrictions currently weighing on all events involving groups of people. In fact, it was earnestly hoped in some quarters that the en primeur tastings would “skip a year”, and take place in early 2021 (before bottling), thereby setting a precedent. The advantage here is that the wines would be much further along and therefore a much truer reflection of their ultimate quality.
The argument against this, of course, is that château owners have become used to pocketing payment in the spring following the vintage and that delaying this by months or, worse still, a full year, would constitute a huge handicap. Does this hold water? While many estates have to finance major investments, i.e. repay debts, it must be said that, by and large, the great growths are in a very sound financial situation – in fact, quite a priviliged one considering the plight of modest Bordeaux, in very dire straits indeed.
The second challenge facing the 2019 campaign is timing. If the tastings are being held this summer, when will the wines be marketed? September, before the harvest, seems a logical time, but no one can say for sure, which is understandable in light of the unprecedented circumstances. What is to be feared is a long, drawn-out campaign. Whether it be organizing tastings or putting wines out on the market, the Bordeaux industry has much to gain by joining forces and working together, coherently. Doing things piecemeal would only be harmful.
The third issue is, of course, pricing. We know for a fact that 2019 is a very good vintage. Detractors of Bordeaux mock such statements, and die-hard antagonists predict, for the umpteenth time, that the market will collapse, the bubble will burst, and that the elite wines of Bordeaux will be a thing of the past unless they drastically reduce their prices. We have regularly heard such forecasts through the years… However, the 2019 campaign is well and truly different. The signals from major markets are worrying. Economies around the planet are suffering and the most expensive wines are assuredly luxury i.e. non-essential products.
But let’s not dramatize the situation! If there are no takers for the grands crus at the prices being asked, those prices will come down. It’s as simple as that. President Calvin Coolidge famously said “The business of America is business”. This is true of Bordeaux too, and a realistic response would occur in short order. While it would be humbling to have to go back and bring down prices, the region has seen numerous crises through the centuries and can cope quite well, I am sure.
So, while not exactly sitting on the edge of my seat, I am quite intrigued to see how the campaign will go this year. Care must nevertheless be taken not to misinterpret information and fall prey to fake news. For instance, while such and such a château may “come out” at a given price, that first tranche price may be just to test the water and involve only a small part of production. It could be totally misleading and unrepresentative. By the same token, you may hear, as I have, that the cellars in Bordeaux are bursting at the seams with unsold wine. This, too, must be taken with a grain of salt because the situation varies enormously among hundreds of châteaux. So, no pontification, please.
In any event, few critics’ scores will be trustworthy in my opinion for the reasons outlined above. So the parameters for setting prices may well change. Those rare critics who have travelled to Bordeaux and tasted across the board will undoubtedly have greater influence.
I wrote this text on the 27th of May in the morning and by late afternoon I had received my first offer to buy wines from the 2019 vintage: Arsac, Beaumot, Lannessan, and Tertre Roteboeuf.
When will the big guns come out? Your guess is as good as mine…
2020 is decidedly a very atypical year for Bordeaux – as it is for the rest of the world.
