Castor Membership January 2024: 88.3 Percent Of The Time and 100 Years to Live

The slightly skewed bunches of the grape Aligote.

“88.3 Percent of the Time”

Domaine de L’Ecette Bourzeron Aligoté “Les Bouillottes”, Burgundy, France 2021

For as long as I have been in a position to educate on wine-at restaurant staff trainings, meetings with sommeliers, “TED Talk”-style business functions, and everything in between-Burgundy has been a wheelhouse region, both experientially and from that other, more intangible angle…what the philosopher Horace called “the hidden secrets of the soul” that, in his mind at least, wine presumably lays bare.

And Burgundy, in the fertile, flat lands of eastern France, is inherently fascinating. Among the famed wine regions of the world, it is far from the most beautiful, but its lack of dramatic scenery somehow adds to the allure: THIS is the most exclusive, expensive grape growing area on the planet? The communal aspect of the place, while perhaps a tad overblown, is also charming, with vineyards that are considered sacred broken up into tiny parcels, shared by scores of well-known names rather than behind some gated estate. Finally, as someone who believes himself to be down-to-earth but is frequently (and rightly) accused of being, well, “fancy", I must admit I also identify with the pleasant fiction that is Burgundy’s “blue-collar” veneer; while true that many producers’ financial riches are reflected more in their land holdings than their bank accounts, the myth of Burgundy’s culture at its core being one of physical labor, sustaining food and wine, and a farmer’s mentality is amusing once you actually visit. Seeing Burgundy firsthand shows the many so-called farmers who tend their fields in herringbone coats and silk scarves, driving the latest leased Mercedes G-Class or Jeep Trackhawk through the provincial roads, and routinely attending dinners to pair their wines with Michelin-starred tasting menus.

This fundamental dichotomy extends to the wines themselves; perhaps no other wine-growing region on Earth is as simplistically complicated as Burgundy, planted on a topsoil of dilettante with a substratum of Einstein. True mastery of Burgundy requires a lifetime of never-ending study and tasting to understand the subtle variations of the myriad micro climes, but on the surface, anyone can at least figure out the grape varieties used, as Burgundy has relatively few permitted and, apart from Germany’s ubiquitous Riesling, is the closest any wine region is to a grape monopoly; as I often told the aforementioned staffs/clients/patrons at wine events when I felt like waxing poetic, “90 percent of the time in Burgundy/you only have two grapes in play/one of them being Pinot Noir/and the other Chardonnay”. At the time, my sophomoric attempt at verse was just meant to compartmentalize things and wasn’t backed up by statistics, but as it turns out, for the white grapes of Burgundy, I wasn’t too far off…1.7%, to be exact.

A map of the Bouzeron appellation in the Cote Chalonnaise, Burgundy, with the location of the single vineyard Les Bouillottes.

If you endeavor to approach the famous villages of Chassagne and Pugliny from the south via train, the closest you’ll come is the sleepy town of Chagny (home to the famous Michelin three-starred restaurant Maison Lameloise-again, Burgundy with the “fancy” hidden amidst the seemingly unpretentious). Just on the outskirts of town to the west, there are vineyards planted with white grapes, and at first glance it seems to be another appellation contributing to the roughly 18,500 hectares of Chardonnay in Burgundy. As the plantings extend south slightly to the village of Bouzeron, however, a keener eye notices that all of these grapes look slightly different, sharing the same general shape as Chardonnay but with more haphazardly constructed clusters that are susceptible to mildew and early rot. These vines are Burgundy’s “other” white grape varietal, Aligoté, aka the largest part of my “missing” 1.7%.

Aligoté’s entire story is an uphill fight; most studies now place its origins in Burgundy, where its existence has been precarious at best (in Jancis Robinson’s book Wine Grapes, the authors cite documents as early as 1807 that recommend its being uprooted in favor of other varieties). Until recently, in fact, the nicest thing that could be said for Aligoté was that it was perfectly suited to be the base ingredient for the well-known “Kir” cocktail, where its presumed tartness melded well with creme de cassis. Possessing a much higher natural acidity than Chardonnay, Aligoté receiving proper hang time to promote ripening is essential; however, the grape also ripens early, which prompts challenges in the form of spring frosts and the previously noted downy mildew and botrytis.

Aligoteé has in recent decades found a home in Eastern Europe, making quaffable everyday examples in places such as Ukraine (over 10% of their total vineyard area is planted to Aligoté). However, in the limestone soils of Bouzeron, the grape’s spiritual homeland, Aligoté reaches an apex that in my experience has yet to be duplicated elsewhere. An appellation technically in Burgundy’s Cote Chalonnaise but within reach of the region’s main stretch, the Cotes d’Or (Bouzeron is a 12-minute commute from the Cotes de Beaune’s southern tip, the appellation of Santenay), the Bouzeron appellation was established in 1998 to recognize and delimit the potential of Aligoté. The Bouzeron AOP is a white wine-0nly zone, and entirely devoted to the Aligoté grape-no blending is permitted. So, why showcase a grape that Robinson describes as “sometimes eye-wateringly tart”? Well, precisely to correct historical assumptions, for one: Aligoté, being less highly regarded than Chardonnay, was usually planted throughout the rest of Burgundy at either the highest or lowest elevations of a given area, leaving the precious mid-range sites for the Chard-a rather self-fulfilling prophecy, in my view, as the grapes would never ripen to a point that balanced the acidity. In Bouzeron, Aligoté is given free reign, and the best plots produce a wine that plays very similarly to Chardonnay in the mouth: round, rich textures, a little lactic creaminess, and tropical fruit mingling together with the acid. Another reason I believe Bouzeron is primed to punch its way up the ranks? Climate change. As the earth warms (and Burgundy winemakers have told me about its effects ad nauseum over the last few years), Aligoté’s propensity for ripening will grow further, with colder spring snaps decreasing, and the varietal’s acid being tempered by newfound juiciness. Lastly, there is the question of value: If this month’s featured wine from Vincent Daux’s Domaine de l’Ecette, a single-vineyard lieu dit (a vineyard deemed of suffiicent quality to feature its name on the label, but not classified as 1er Cru or Grand Cru) were made from Chardonnay, it’s not hyperbole to suggest that the price would double-at least.

Domaine de l’Ecette’s owner and winemaker, Vincent Daux.

Vincent Daux’s father Jean moved from his home in Burgundy’s southern Cotes Maconnais north to the Cote Chalonnais village of Rully in 1983. A winemaker and winegrower, Jean saw potential in Rully’s Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, but also quickly moved to acquire plantings of Aligoté in Bouzeron, particularly in a small lieu-dit called Les Bouillottes (the vineyard’s name is old, making it more likely that it is named for the 18-century card game and table of the same name). In 1997, Jean’s son Vincent began working alongside his father, and currently runs the estate’s 17 hectares of vines. Their work has led to accolades, such as frequent features in the prestigious French Guide Hachette (sort of like the Michelin Guide for wines), and it is easy to see why when tasting the results of their plantings in the west-facing, calcaire-and-limestone Les Bouillottes. The 40-year-old vines give off unexpected structure that presents itself in a round, full palate and matches the acidity which, far from being unpleasantly tart, here gives off more of a vibrant note, with fruits of melon and rich lemon curd. Fermenting and aging the wine in stainless steel before a brief passage in barrel preserves freshness while also tamping down on the “tart”. Tasting the “Les Bouillottes”, one is hard-pressed to find this “eye-watering” wine that critics deem better suited to a cocktail. In fact, my penchant for writing bad poetry has me re-examining my stanza: “88.3 percent of the time in Burgundy/there is only one white wine in play/this lion’s share is for Chard, to be sure/but don’t sleep on Aligoté”-D.

Domaine de l’Ecette Bourzeron Aligoté “Les Bouillottes”, Burgundy 2021

Country of Origin: France.

Places and People: Domaine de l’Ecette was born in 1983 when winemaker and grower Jean Daux moved north from the Maconnais to the village of Rully in Burgundy’s Cote Chalonnaise. His son Vincent joined Jean on the estate in 1997 and now is the principal owner/winemaker. The fruit for the family’s Bouzeron Aligoté comes from a lieu-dit single vineyard of 40 year-old vines called “Les Bouillottes” in the southern portion of the Bouzeron AOP, almost directly west of the village of Rully. Bouzeron is famous as an appellation exclusively devoted to the Aligoté grape, the only such AOP in Burgundy.

Soil: Clay subsoil with limestone and calcaire above.

Grape Varieties: 100% Aligoté.

Winemaking: The “Les Bouillottes” is harvested by hand and fermented in stainless steel.

Aging: A brief period of several months in oak barrels, almost all used.

Flavors and Foods: Read about Aligoté and you will encounter a slew of warnings about overly acidic, nondescript wines, which is why tasting the Domaine de l’Ecette is so rewarding; not only does it taste deliciously on its own, but more exciting still in the context of what Aligoté typically offers. Aromas of quince paste, vanilla, and fresh yellow apples feature on the nose, and on the palate, the “Les Bouillottes” carries notes of pineapple, rich lemon curd, and ripe melon. Add in secondary hints of vanilla, almond, and a racy texture that is well-balanced rather than harsh, and the sum effect is that the l’Ecette “Les Bouillottes” does a lot of typically White Burgundy things, at a supreme value. Pairings include fresh seafood towers or fruits de mer, sauteed or roasted whitefish such as haddock and sole, and goat or Comte-style cheeses.

Service and Cellar: The Domaine de l’Ecette “Les Bouillottes” should be served on the higher side of White wine cellar temperature (50-52 degrees F). I feel as though any chance the acidity takes over with a little less chill is outweighed by the fact that the secondary notes of the wine get lost with too much time in the fridge. This wine should be enjoyed in its youth optimally, but that definition is a little looser here-try the “Les Bouillottes” 2021 within the next 3-5 years.

It may be in France now, but the village of Le Soler, where Chateau Nadal-Hainault is located, still celebrates its Catalan heritage-the grapevines do, also: Carignan is a synonym for Mazuelo, which originates from across the border in Aragon.

“100 Years to Live”

Chateau Nadal-Hainault Carignan “La Centenaire”,

PGI Cotes de Catalanes, France 2019

In preparing for a recent networking event I spoke at, I was reflecting on the current state of my industry, and of alcohol in general. In short, it’s a turbulent age, when welcome signs of wellness are challenging the status quo: some are drinking less, some aren’t drinking at all, and those that are still drinking are butting heads with the wine and spirits establishment by demanding to drink better: much like in our food consumption trends, consumers are thirsting for products that show provenance, that reflect their views on interacting with our natural world via sustainability, and that represent a shift in stylistic focus, where we increasingly are craving habitat over hedonism-when it comes to wine, we want bottles that put us in our element, that are a natural extension of other interactions that we need to survive-gathering, eating, conversing, connecting.

In Dan Buettner’s book Blue Zones, an examination of the world’s places and cultures that boast the largest number of centenarians per capita which was made into a highly acclaimed Netflix documentary last year, there is a surprising amount of content regarding the consumption of alcohol in these long-lived lands. Much is made, in particular, of the male population’s sake drinking in Japan and the quaffing of red wine in Sardinia, where the local clone of Grenache, Cannonau, figures prominently in both mealtime and community. Naturally, there has been a bit of backlash to this from the health and wellness industry; the documentary, in particular, was criticized for seemingly glorifying drinking.

I am not here to preach about this from one camp or the other; I have found that unfortunately, on both the alcohol and wellness sides of the equation, the term industry is remarkably apt. My attempts to continue along this train of thought, exploring longevity by demonizing the alcohol marketing machine in our country whilst coming to wine’s defense with talk of artery-scrubbing flavonoids and resveratro in grape skins stemming cancer and dementia, resulted in a Grade-A case of writer’s block, which in turn led to the refrain of Five for Fighting’s “100 Years” spinning around aimlessly in my brain-for those of you who don’t know this overly emotional piece of piano-driven mid-2000s pop, you’re not missing much. To those now beset by this particular earworm, you’re welcome.

All of this song-related silliness really got me thinking of another topic, a sort of twist on this discussion from the perspective of the earth: what about those “old vines” that we always extol the virtues of? Is there a benefit to drinking wine from centenarian shoots? Are there Blue Zones for grapes?

One of the 100 year-plus old Carignan vines at Chateau Nadal-Hainault; the vines were originally planted in 1900 to celebrate the merging of the two families together by marriage.

We know from the aforementioned wine marketing machine that the term “old vines” is used with reckless abandon on all sorts of bottlings to the point where, as a phrase with no legal meaning, it has become the “all-natural” of wine labeling. We also know that after about 25 years of life, an average grapevine begins to slowly lose its ability to produce fruit. In certain climates, however, this process of decreasing yields can take decades, as the oldest of these withered treasures can exceed even our own dreams of immortality…80 years…100 years…125 years. A century-old grapevine is the ultimate “quality over quantity” posterchild, with vine roots that are hardy and deep, thus being less prone to issues of drought or weather variation-in our era of climate change, old vines stand resolute and often offer wine growers and winemakers respite from the constant sufferings of their younger siblings. Moreover, while they may only produce a tiny amount of fruit each season, the berries they do gift us are exquisitely concentrated (in many cases, a 100 year old vine will produce less than half a bottle of wine per plant).

To achieve centenarian status, grapevines welcome warm climates in general, with significant diurnal temperature swings and drier conditions free of humidity spikes. Perhaps it also makes sense that many of these vines we now know of as centenarians were planted in remote locations, where later developments in mass or industrial agriculture were rendered impossible. Lastly, there is research suggesting that older vines benefit, like trees, from the intricate ecosystem of roots and undisturbed earth beneath, that they can even “learn” and adapt with time, and “support” one another. Hmm…warm and dry weather, a remote area not caught up in the hustle and bustle, and a social system of community and support…sound familiar?

Chateau Nadal-Hainault; the 12th-century chapel is connected to the facade.

Research by the Blue Zones team and others has confirmed that anthropological factors such as culture and diet are more important to longevity than genetics in humans, but still, it doesn’t hurt to have a few “ripe olds” in your family tree. The same is true in the vineyard-certain grapes do set themselves up well for longevity. One of the biggest examples of this is the red varietal Mazuelo, originally from Northern Spain and now better known by its Southern French/Catalan synonyms, Carignan (Carinyena). As the multitude of monikers suggest, Carignan has been cultivated for centuries in Northeast Spain, Southern France, and even on our Blue Zones-friendly example of Sardinia, where it is known as Bovale di Spagna.

Carignan is vigorous and highly productive; a winery with an eye for commercial volume rather than any sort of qualitative goals can push yields to an astounding 200 hl/ha. The grape depends on warm climates with mitigating breezes, as mildew is a concern, and the grape bunches cling tightly to the vines, making mechanical harvesting difficult…a fact that, for me, is a call to both more physical activity and a true artist’s tender care. Unfortunately, many regions have exploited Carignan’s ability to produce large amounts of juice; France’s Languedoc-Roussillon, in particular, has succumbed to this. As always, however, there are those who hold to a more respectful aim, and this month’s new-to-market Castor feature, the “La Centenaire” from 6th generation producer Chateau Nadal-Hainault, is a showpiece for a family with artisanal ambition. Their now 100+year old Carignan vines were originally planted in celebration of the joining by marriage of the Nadal and Hainault families (the Hainaults had been making wine in the small commune of Le Soler, west of Perpignan, since the 1820s). Today, under the watchful eye of winemaker Jean-Marie Nadal and his three daughters, this plot of centenarian Carignan, planted among trees twice their age, produces impeccable fruit that is a testament to the variety: inky, deep purple color, full-fleshy concentration of dark fruits complimented by vibrant acidity, and a structural viscosity that opens well with decanting and shows cellaring potential.

Longevity…we all seem to be obsessed by this tantalizing prospect. Again, when it comes to wine, I am not here to preach or judge-for that, you can look to a misleading study on alcohol’s health benefits funded by the wine and spirits industry, or an influencer’s post extolling sobriety on one hand so that they can hawk non-alcoholic cocktails with the other, or the fact that our friends at Blue Zones now sell the Sardinian Cannonau wine championed in their documentary.

I would rather aspire to end up more like those centenarian Carignan vines-adaptive to the changes in their environments, hardy and readied for their challenges, sensing the needs of those that stand with them, each year bringing something of value into the world, having that gift wax in quality even as it wanes in magnitude. Lofty goals, but there’s still time-D.

Chateau Nadal-Hainault Carignan “La Centenaire”, PGI Cotes Catalanes 2019

Country of Origin: France.

Places and People: Chateau Nadal-Hainault is a cinema-ready property with equally romantic history; the Hainault family has been living and making wine inside the Cistercian priory of Sainte Eulalie since 1826. Sainte Eulalie, located in the Rousillon village of Le Soler, dates to the 12th century. In 1900, Therese Hainault married Francois Nadal, and the union of the Nadal-Hainault families was made; in celebration, a plot of Carignan vines was planted, and it is fruit from these now 100+year old vines that is in your glass-time, history, and family in a bottle. 6 generations from the Hainault’s arrival, Jean-Marie Nadal and his three daughters currently run the property, which adheres to strict viticultural principles and is certified organic by AB Ecocert.

Soil: The centenarian vines of Carignan are planted on calcareous clay.

Grape Varieties: 100% Carignan (An appellation note: because of the use of 100% Carignan with no blending, the “La Centenaire” declassifies from Rousillon to PGI Cotes Catalanes).

Winemaking: The hand-harvested berries from the 100-year-old Carignan vines are sorted in the vineyard then placed in concrete vats (partial whole cluster). A common technique when vinifying the extremely acidic/bombastic/tannic Carignan is to employ carbonic maceration (a process where whole bunches of berries are placed in tanks under CO2 and the pressure causes the grapes to undergo fermentation before splitting and releasing their juice). Here, Nadal-Hainault employs this with a small percentage of the Carignan to extract more of the grapes’ natural fruit, while vinifying the remainder in the traditional way (native yeast, concrete tank).

Aging: True to their non-interventionist style, the Nadals elevate this wine in steel tanks throughout the winter after harvest. Prior to bottling, the wine is passed through a cold stabilization for freshness and lightly filtered using certified organic materials.

Flavors and Foods: Carignan, when handled deftly, is fast becoming one of my favorite grape varieties-most of the bottlings that I’ve seen treated with this extra TLC are much more expensive, so to find this level of integrity in a Castor-friendly wine is impressive. Bold, inky flavors of blueberry and fig reduction are so dark and viscous that they provide the palate of “La Centenaire” with an umami-esque feeling, with all elements coming together into one flavor that’s hard to put a descriptor on. Thanks to the family’s choice to employ some carbonic and the quality of the fruit of the vines themselves, the structure of the Nadal-Hainault features acidity and tannins that add freshness and structure, respectively, without bogging the wine down in either direction. The low yields of 30 hl/ha (less than half of what the appellation requires) give deeply concentrated fruit that would pair perfectly with grilled butterfiled leg of lamb, duck marinated in an Asian-style sauce (hoisin, black bean chile), or daube stew of slow-roasted beef. If meats aren’t on the menu, a deep, slow-cooked dish with chick peas (subbing them into a red sauce, or channa masala easy on the spices) would be an excellent partner.

Service and Cellar: With its power and ripeness, the “La Centenaire” is a shoo-in for the lower end of the red cellar temperature spectrum (56-60 degrees F). Winemaker Jean Nadal thinks that this 2019 vintage is halfway through its life expectancy, and I’m inclined to agree: drink now up through its 10-year anniversary in 2029.