Beaujolais, freed from clichés

Because wine can seem so arcane, and because it offers an experience that can be difficult to articulate, it becomes easy to fall back on conventional wisdom. "What is that odd whiff in the glass of older riesling we've just poured?" you may wonder. Chances are, somebody will respond, "Petrol," a dead giveaway that the assessment came from some secondhand description of the wine. (Most Americans wouldn't use a British term like "petrol," unless they were repeating something they had read or heard.) And so it is with Beaujolais, the subject of this month's installment of Wine School. It's a wine trapped too often by clichés, confined by expectations, held back by a checkered past that leaves many hesitant to embrace all that the best bottles have to offer.The purpose of Wine School is to shed those expectations that can shape our responses and limit the growth of confidence and ease. Together each month we will explore a particular type of wine. The idea is to drink, not taste, with curiosity and attention, then to share thoughts and insights. The hope is that in time this sort of considered wine drinking will lead to an understanding of what you like, what you don't like and why, and that it will encourage all of us to sharpen our observations and re-examine our assumptions.Few wines require such a re-examination more than Beaujolais. Here is an example of why:
"The beauty of Beaujolais for me has always been its simplicity and its price point," said one reader, Al Jiwa of Toronto. "These days, however, the price point is so much higher than it used to be while its quality, as enjoyable as it may be, is straightforward, offering very little complexity not to mention offering no ageability."Al Jiwa is right, but also very wrong. Beaujolais was once a beautifully simple wine: light, joyous, thirst-quenching and inexpensive. It was the perfect accompaniment to the rich, fatty cuisine of Lyon, where so much Beaujolais was gulped in convivial bouchons, served in the traditional clear, thick bottles called "pots." In his book, "Adventures on the Wine Route," importer Kermit Lynch writes lovingly and nostalgically about these wines, but also angrily about the mass-market, confected wine that so much of Beaujolais was to become.In the last quarter of the 20th century, Beaujolais took the worldwide marketing success of Beaujolais Nouveau, based on a quaint local custom of celebrating the harvest with a newly made wine, and ran with it into the abyss. Mass production and global distribution transformed the region and its image.Traditional practices of harvesting low yields of carefully cultivated, properly ripened grapes were abandoned. Instead, yields were vastly increased, and chemically farmed grapes were harvested early to avoid the risk of bad weather. The diluted juice was manipulated, strengthened and stabilized in the winery to withstand shipping. The wine tasted candied and artificial. And so, Beaujolais Nouveau became the vinous equivalent of square tomatoes. Yet it remained cheap.When the market for Beaujolais Nouveau fell, the region went into crisis. Such a high percentage of Beaujolais had given itself over to the production of Nouveau that it was unable to adapt. The identity of the region was blurred, and its reputation clouded.Fortunately, over the years, a small group of producers had instead focused on making the best possible wines from grapes grown naturally and farmed meticulously. Though the greater market for Beaujolais foundered, these producers had gained a small but devoted following. By making a smaller volume of far superior wines, and charging more for them, they demonstrated a path toward a successful future for the region.This vision of Beaujolais is our focus in Wine School. Sure, there is plenty of mass-market Beaujolais. The great majority of the Beaujolais produced no doubt falls into this category. But not the wines we are drinking, and this is where I take issue with Al Jiwa and others who echoed those comments. Great Beaujolais today transcends the simple wines of old and the cheap, mass-market wines of the present. It can be complex, and it is age-worthy. But great Beaujolais remains joyous, which, in my mind, at least, connects it with those very different wines that Lynch extolled. Today, excellent Beaujolais producers abound. I included two of them among the three wines I suggested: the 2011 Juliénas from Michel Tête's Domaine du Clos du Fief and the 2011 Côte de Brouilly from Jean-Paul Brun's Terres Dorées. The third wine was a bit of a compromise. In an effort to pick a wine that would be easier to find, I selected the 2011 Beaujolais-Villages from Louis Jadot, a mass-market wine that is nonetheless well made. Not all of you were able to find these wines, but I was very happy that many were able to turn up equally good choices.Both the Tête and the Brun are what's known as cru Beaujolais, wines from 10 villages in the north of the Beaujolais region thought to have terroirs distinctive enough that their names are appellations. In addition to Côte de Brouilly and Juliénas, the others are Brouilly, Chénas, Chiroubles, Fleurie, Morgon, Moulin-à-Vent, Régnié and St.-Amour. Terroirs with theoretically less potential than the crus may be termed Beaujolais-Villages or, at bottom, plain Beaujolais. These wines are not necessarily bad. Plain Beaujolais from producers like Brun or Pierre-Marie Chermette's Domaine du Vissoux can be absolutely delicious, pure and direct.Most readers who were able to try all of these wines immediately spotted the differences between the Beaujolais-Villages and the cru Beaujolais. The Jadot was simpler, with juicy fruit flavors and a smooth, silky texture. Like each of these wines, it was transformed when served with food. One reader, Lixin Cheng from Calgary, Alberta, was initially disappointed by the Jadot, finding it thin and flat with aromas reminiscent of cider. But then came the pork ribs: "That was when the wine had a sudden change of personality! Even though the nose remained the same, the flavor became more assertive and the texture more velvety."
For me, the wine was pleasant enough. I found aromas of ripe red fruit, which were echoed by the flavors. It was simple, but not particularly lively. Jadot, incidentally, also makes very good Chénas, Morgon and Moulin-à-Vent.I found the two cru Beaujolais far more interesting, and I think most readers agreed. I have had the Juliénas many times, and it always makes me smile. It is infectiously joyous: bright, juicy, pure, earthy and spicy. The flavors were more complex than the aromas, and if it was not quite as silky as the Jadot, it had more substance and depth.By contrast, I found the Côte de Brouilly to have an almost stern berry aroma, with an earthy, stony quality that is often referred to as "mineral." This wine had gravitas, a word rarely associated with Beaujolais. It was not immediately inviting like the Juliénas but fascinating, complex on the palate, full of flavor yet not heavy. It made me thoughtful and contemplative, yet it was inherently lively and in the end buoyant. I loved this wine, too.In discussing Beaujolais last month, I asked readers to consider what emotions were conjured up by drinking these wines. It may have seemed an odd question to ask as we often take a hyper-rational, fact-heavy approach to wine. Yet I believe we underestimate the potency of our emotional response, and Beaujolais was a good opportunity to discuss this because it seems to touch the emotions directly.Not many of you expounded on this point, but those who did reaffirmed the inherent carefree nature of Beaujolais. Of the Juliénas, Janet of New York City said, "It made us feel cheerful and happy, like spring is here," while Sally Kral of Ithaca, N.Y., found a 2009 Côte de Brouilly to be "celebratory."As for cost, well, yes, good Beaujolais is more expensive than it used to be. The Tête was $23 and the Brun $22, which I consider entirely reasonable given their quality, though Morgons from Jean Foillard, another excellent producer, are now retailing for $40. That's not a cheap wine. But given the quality, is it outrageous?It reminds me of the Chinese food conundrum. Even though Chinese is one of the world's great cuisines, many people, conditioned by years of inexpensive takeout food, expect it to be cheap and won't pay more. Thus, many Chinese restaurants stay inexpensive and mediocre, and many good Chinese chefs work instead at sushi bars.Next Up: The Sancere Moment This time, we'll switch to a white wine, Sancerre, which (once, at least) was sort of an analogue to Beaujolais. Both were thought of as simple wines. Sancerre was often the white you found in Parisian cafes, just as Beaujolais was routinely the red. But no more. While public opinion of Beaujolais may be low, it's beloved by the wine intelligentsia and sommeliers. The opposite is true of Sancerre. Rather than look at sauvignon blanc, the grape for Sancerre, we will focus on the wine. Sauvignon blanc can be made into wine anywhere, but only in Sancerre does it achieve the aromas and flavors that set it apart. This ability to express distinctiveness, to transmit a sense of place, has led to the notion of terroir, the holy grail of so many wine producers. The three Sancerres that I suggest you try are:1. Lucien Crochet Sancerre La Croix du Roy 2012 (Rosenthal Wine Merchant, New York) $28.2. Franck & Jean-François Bailly (aka Bailly-Reverdy) Sancerre 2012 (Daniel Johnnes Selection/Michael Skurnik, Syosset, N.Y.) $24.3. Gérard Boulay Sancerre à Chavignol 2012 (a Thomas Calder Selection/Polaner Selections, Mount Kisco, N.Y.) $28.These producers make multiple cuvées, so be careful which ones you buy. And if you can't find any, other producers I recommend include Domaine Vacheron, Pascal Jolivet, Thomas-Labaille, Yves Martin, Hippolyte Reverdy and Michel Thomas. If you are ambitious, why not also get a bottle of sauvignon blanc from New Zealand, California, South America or South Africa and compare?I recommend drinking the wine with a meal. Sancerre is a classic match for goat cheese. It goes beautifully with many salads, omelets, shellfish and fish dishes. A British writer, Fiona Beckett, highly recommends cucumber fritters, which I look forward to trying.Sancerre should be served chilled, but not too cold. If you have a bottle in the fridge, take it out for a half-hour before drinking. We'll convene again in four weeks. I can't wait.
Characteristics to ConsiderFlavor and aroma: Sauvignon blanc can be a polarizing grape; some people absolutely hate it. What does it smell and taste like to you? Do you even like it? Be frank.Texture: What does this wine feel like in the mouth? Very different from Bordeaux and Beaujolais, I would guess.Comparisons: Does Sancerre remind you of other sauvignon blanc wines? Or some other type of wine? If so, which ones? (An advanced question, demanding intimate knowledge of a few other regions. Don't worry if no answer occurs to you.)© 2014 New York Times News Service