Pollux Membership September 2022: More Than a Bivalve and Gimli’s Suit of Armor
Harvest at Domaine Bregeon, Muscadet Sevre-et-Main, 2020.
“More than a Bivalve”
Muscadet Cru “Gorges”, Domaine Bregeon, France 2018
“It’s oyster wine”. Ask many wine professionals and wine writers, and that’s what they’ll tell you about wines hailing from the Muscadet region, including, sadly, many salespeople and winemakers representing the area itself. Located in the Loire Atlantique, the Muscadet Sevre et Maine appellation (named for the presence of both the Atlantic Ocean-derived Sevre and inland Maine rivers) is the principal appellation of note of the 7 wine regions in the Pays Nantais, and one which has been able to carve out a niche for itself as the home of dry (in some cases very dry), high-acid (in some cases excruciatingly high) white wines that pair perfectly adequately with a plate of your favorite bivalves. And while yes, Muscadet has proximity to the maritime influences of the Atlantic, producers with “quality over quantity” on the brain are in fact able to draw more from this region than a simple cliche. Muscadet (as with much of France, the shorthand for the wine is in fact the region rather than the grape, but we’ll get to that), in its most visible and marketed form, is invariably a cheap glass pour at a restaurant that serves shellfish, chilled to oblivion in a fashion that renders it as little more than alcoholic lemon water. In fact, when the industry’s preconceived notions of the region’s identity are countered with wines from a producer such as Fred Lailler and his Domaine Michel Bregeon, one wonders how those inexpensive, anonymous offerings ever became considered typical, and upon tasting Bregeon’s amazing old-vine bottling from the classified cru named “Gorges”, one wishes for these wines to become the standard rather than simply setting it.
A pictorial reminder of the challenges of working in Sevre-et-Main; below winter’s bounty is the volcanic Gabbro soil the domaine’s vineyards are planted upon.
With a propensity for harvest-time rains, snow and frost that can carry into spring, and humidity that can lead to mildew outbreaks, the terroir of Muscadet Sevre et Maine is challenging. Add to this the principle grape variety of Muscadet, a distant relative of Chardonnay called Melon de Bourgogne whose structural attributes scream “Meh” across the board save for the potentially painful amount of acid, and you have the “why” behind Muscadet’s wine culture of co-ops, negociant merchants, and mass production. Historically, Muscadet was always served young and fresh, and the Melon de Bourgogne grape was considered so inherently disinteresting that the practice of aging it’s juices for a few months on the fine lees (spent yeasts left over from fermentation) in an attempt to add roundness and weight to the palate was considered compulsory, so much so that lees aging became part of the appellation law and the traditional long-necked bottles housing Muscadet had the phrase “Sur Lie” (“On the lees”) etched into their green glass. Thankfully, there are outliers in the annals of the region: In 1975, a young Michel Bregeon left his family’s domaine and set out on his own to expand the possibility of Muscadet. Settling in a southern corner of the region known for volcanic soils, Michel aged his wines far beyond established precedents (up to seven years on the lees, a far cry from the standard few months) and with time discovered that his wines achieved unexpected levels of depth and body weight with maturity, silencing doubters and becoming a leader in advocating for the special areas of Muscadet to be labeled as classfied growths, or crus. When this process finally began in 2011, the commune in which all of Michel’s original vines are planted, Gorges, was one of the first to be recognized. Bregeon retired after the 2010 harvest, but his legacy has continued under Muscadet native Fred Lailler, to whom Michel entrusted the purchase of his property. Since taking over, Lailler has continued the Bregeon aesthetic of richer, more complex Muscadet that lends itself to aging, as well as overseeing the Domaine’s organic certification by Ecocert in 2018, no small feat in a region still so devoted to high-intensity, high-volume viticultural practices. Currently, the Domaine produces four wines from the Melon de Bourgogne grape varietal, two “Sur Lie” bottlings and two crus that follow the route of the Sevre river: the small commune of Clisson on the southern edge of the appellation, and the winery’s home village, Gorges. This area is a diamond in Muscadet’s rough in that its almost entirely formed from the crown jewel of the area’s soil types, Gabbro.
Spacing between the rows, Domaine Bregeon.
When one typically thinks of volcanic soil in wine, exotic island vineyards come to mind, or perhaps areas historically associated with seismic activity (Sicily’s Mount Etna, for example). Viewing the bucolic rolling vineyards of Muscadet’s Gorges, the connection with an ancient igneous rock that is rarely found in vineyard terroir, one that can bring complexity, length of finish, and mineral intensity to the finished product, simply doesn’t register, and yet the effect of Gabbro, the soil formed by magma deep inside the earth’s crust, is palpable in the glass. Factor in the age of the vines in Fred Lailler’s 10 hectare vineyard (65+years), his commitment to controlling yields (the average yields for the Domaine are 30 hectoliters/hectare, or only 2/3 of what is permitted by the Gorges subzone law), and naturally wild yeast fermentations, and you have a wine that not only eclipses what is expected of a typical Muscadet in terms of flavor profile, structure, and length of finish, you have a wine that is infinitely more versatile in terms of enjoying with food, with myriad possibilities of composed entrees joining the aforementioned plate of shellfish on ice. Thanks to the work of Michel Bregeon and Fred Lailler, there are wines from Muscadet that are, to paraphrase the band Boston, “More than a Bivalve”. Earworm for the day complete; you’re welcome-D.
Muscadet Cru “Gorges”, Domaine Bregeon 2018
Country of Origin: France.
Places and People: Michel Bregeon created his eponymous domaine in 1975 in the commune of Gorges, a small village just off of the N149 and near the Sevre river. His desire to create Muscadet wines that were capable of extended time in the cellar helped shape the capabilities of the region as we know it today, and his tradition has been continued since 2011 with the arrival of Fred Lailler, who purchased the winery but maintains its name in tribute to Michel. Certified organic by Ecocert, the domaine controls its yields to a boutique level: the winery only makes 3,750 cases in total of all six of their wines, and only three cases of the Gorges Cru were imported into Virginia this year!
Soil: The famous volcanic Gabbro is the setting for the Gorges cru’s 65+ year-old vines. Formed by magma deep underground, Gabbro is blueish-green in color, extremely rare in lands where vines are planted, and lends an ethereal depth to these wines.
Grape Varieties: 100% Melon de Bourgogne.
Winemaking: Hand-harvested at yields at least 1/3 lower than the region requires. The grapes for the Gorges are fermented solely with natural yeasts, and although malolactic fermentation sometimes will occur spontaneously, most vintages it doesn’t take place at all, keeping the Gorges very clean and fresh on the palate.
Aging: In keeping with regional tradition, the juice that makes the Gorges cru is aged underground in glass-lined cuves (small vats) on the lees (spent yeasts left over from fermentation) until bottling. In the case of Gorges, this lees aging takes place for a minimum of 2 years, and often quite longer depending on the strength of the vintage.
Flavors and Foods: A little bit of straw on sight but overall, an amazing color for a Muscadet with some bottle age already. The nose is subtle, almost ethereal, with yellow apple, melon, and flint/gunsmoke wafting upwards from the glass. The best scent of all is one that isn’t there-the abrasive, pithy lemon aroma that pervades most Muscadets. The yellow apple continues on the palate; the apples are baked but not oxidized, an important distinction to make. Salty mineral, aquamarine, and ground pepper (both white and lemon) are the key secondary notes, and once again the harsh, overly acidic lemony overtones that Melon de Bourgogne so often suffers from are delightfully absent. There is such richness to the palate that the finish almost seems to dangle a hint of residual sugar if not for the bracing acidity that accompanies it; indeed, the only real hit of acid that the Gorges gives is at the very end of your sip, a sort of self-cleansing that makes for easy revisiting. Fresh oysters or shellfish are the obvious cliched pairing, but given the relative richness and abundance of fruit, the bivalves served with a savory granite (fennel?) and other accompaniments would be ideal-this wine can handle cuisine with a little depth and body (think pairing aged Chablis). Seafood crudo and pan-roasted fish with lemon pepper (try weakfish if you can get it, or other members of the drum family) would also work wonders. Thinking outside the box? Try a salad of fresh fall pears and tangy chevre.
Service and Cellar: The Bregeon Gorges 2018 is a marvel in balance and acid, and these factors keep a drinking window open for the next 5 years easily. That acidity on the finish that I mention above bears acknowledgment in the form of service temperature-keep the Gorges at 48 degrees F prior to pouring so that brilliance doesn’t become tiresome to your palate.
Malbec grapes on the vine, Mendoza, Argentina.
Gimli’s Suit of Armor
Familia Mayol “Finca Montuiri” Old Vine Malbec, Lujan de Cuyo, Argentina 2016
If you’ve seen the movie “Somm”, you know what a tasting group is. In an effort to pass the Court of Master Sommelier’s Herculean Master Sommelier exam, groups of wine nerds across the country, and indeed the world, gather together to taste wines blind, mimicking the format of the Court’s “6 in 25” testing regimen. In a CMS tasting exam, you’re given three white wines and three red wines. You have 25 minutes to accurately describe the wine’s flavor and structural elements and, using your theory knowledge, correctly deduce the varietal, location, vintage, and quality level. I was fortunate at the beginning of my Washington, DC wine journey to get aligned to what was, at the time, the only Tasting Group in town (I will hereafter use capital letters to refer to it, because for me, that DC Tasting Group was an entity unto itself). Tasting Group was often full of hijinks and silliness, as we tried to bring levity to what could be a stressful and soul-crushing process of getting beaten down week after week, month after month, by the very thing we loved so much-wine. As time passed, everyone developed their own unique set of skills, and there were certain wines and grapes that always seemed to be in a particular person’s wheelhouse, while others would elude that same talented taster, sometimes literally for years. This story is about a grape (and more specifically, how that grape is treated) that, for a little while and for whatever reason, I just couldn’t miss: Malbec.
Me and my questionable suit/tie/shirt combination on the left, my friend and soon-to-be Master Sommelier Andy Myers on the right.
After my friend Andy Myers had passed his Advanced (level 3) CMS exam, he started to lead tasting group on a regular rotating basis with others who were also gunning for their Master’s. When Andy led a debrief, he was always adept at coming up with a short, very vivid image or thought that could stick in our collective craw and help us find our way to a certain grape variety, like a pneumonic device for wine. When I had my little fortuitous run on Malbec identification, he struck up a dialogue with me and the group:
Andy: All right David, you’ve got a few holes in your description but overall, it was well done. This is the third time in a row that you’ve nailed Mendoza Malbec when we’ve served it; what’s your secret? What’s the little tell that’s getting you there?
Me: Well, it’s like Gimli’s Suit of Armor.
Andy (pause): Um…I’m going to need you to elaborate.
Me: Ok, you know how in the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers movie, they have that comic relief scene leading up to the big battle where the dwarf Gimli is trying on his chain mail and it’s so absurdly long that it falls down to the floor and he has to make a deflecting remark about it being tight across the chest while everyone else laughs? That’s Malbec.
Andy (longer pause, grinning): So, you’re saying that Malbec is thought of as this big Bordeaux varietal like Cabernet and Merlot, and in Mendoza the wineries have money, so they’re throwing all of this new oak and long aging at the wines, but Malbec actually doesn’t have the structure to stand up to all that wood tannin, so it’s like it’s overdressed?
Me: I knew we were friends for a reason.
Andy: Ok gang, there you have it. Malbec is like Gimli’s Armor; the oak barrel forms a big hole around the wine that the grape’s structure just can’t fill.
In subsequent years, Andy has laughingly told me how he still will use some form of this analogy to describe Malbec from Argentina to younger somms, and we both have talked about tasting examples of Argentina’s dominant red grape variety that play right into it, and others where the winery’s more judicious use of oak, plots of older vines, or unique subzone within Mendoza conspire to have the wine transcend my silly attempt to generalize it. Recently, I did a wine dinner with a wine that has all three of these elements in its favor, produced by a winery that I’ve worked with since 2009: Familia Mayol, and their 2016 single vineyard Finca Montuiri.
The ongoing battle between clouds and sun at Familia Mayol (spoiler alert: the sun wins).
The undulating slope of nearly 100 year-old Malbec vines, Finca Montuiri vineyard, Lujan de Cuyo, Mendoza.
I just couldn’t get rid of Familia Mayol. Their entry-level wine, which was still a small-production bottle from one of Mendoza’s premier subzones, Lujan de Cuyo, was irreplaceable on my restaurant’s by-the-glass menu, and believe me, I tried. I just got tired of pouring the same old wine month after month, but try as I might to find a Malbec whose combination of excellence and value bested Mayol, I just couldn’t. As I grew to know the producer more, Familia Mayol was oozing with traits that spoke to me and later became the backbone of how I select wine. They had history on their side: Matias Mayol’s grandfather had left vineyards in Spain for Argentina’s Mendoza in the early 1900s. They had artisanal quantities of production and an artisanal philosophy to winemaking (hand-harvesting, natural yeast fermentation). Best of all, for Mendoza and my Tasting Group darling grape, Malbec, they judiciously use their oak barrel aging, and when tempted to use new barrels or extend their aging times, they limit these practices to vineyards of low-yielding, high-quality fruit that can handle the extra nurturing. One of their finest is an undulating slope of land in the pristine subregion of Lujan de Cuyo, in the shadow of the Andes mountains-Finca Montuiri.
While not anywhere close to Argentina’s highest vineyard plantings, the 3,020 feet above sea level Finca Montuiri vineyard is, as Matias Mayol puts it, “a grape’s paradise”-predominantly sunny conditions with very low humidity, especially during the growing season, as storm and rain activity are kept at bay by the Andes range. Dry, breezy summer days usher along these pergola-trained vines that were planted by his family in 1926, pre-phylloxera for Argentina. The original rootstock of these nearly century-old vines is still intact, producing compellingly concentrated, low-yield fruit that withstands every grain of oak barrel aging employed and then some. Drinking the Finca Montuiri is enjoying the best of what New World wine can offer-the same sense of terroir and place that is prioritized in Europe, balanced with a generosity of fruit that speaks to the “grape’s paradise” Matias describes. Regarding my old Tasting Group Malbec imagery, I’m not sure if Gimli the dwarf has miraculously grown tall, or if indeed his armor has finally been tailored to match, but either way the delight that is the last few cases of Finca Montuiri 2016 available in Virginia has me rethinking my old adage…just don’t tell Andy-D.
Familia Mayol “Finca Montuiri” Old Vine Malbec, Lujan de Cuyo 2016
Country of Origin: Argentina.
Places and People: Familia Mayol has been a presence in the Mendoza region of Argentina, and specifically the Lujan de Cuyo subzone, since the early 20th century. The Finca Montuiri vineyard is a single block of nearly century-old vines (planted in 1926) that sit on their original rootstock. Winemaker Matias Mayol takes advantage of techniques such as leaf-pulling to expose more of the pergola-trained fruit to the plentiful sunshine, ensuring that acidity levels stay high and keep the sugar in check.
Soil: Sandy Clay.
Grape Varieties: 100% Malbec.
Winemaking: After hand-harvesting, the limited quantity of fruit from these very old vines is brought to the cellar and fermented in temperature controlled stainless steel tanks using native yeasts.
Aging: The Mayol Finca Montuiri is aged in French oak barrels for 18 months (50% of the barrels are new each vintage), taking advantage of the deep, concentrated fruit to utilize more robust oak aging that will stay balanced.
Flavors and Foods: Now this is Malbec the way it needs to be. The Finca Montuiri sports a decidedly purple color on sight, with a nose of fresh figs, blackberries, and fresh violets. The palate continues this mix of black and purple fruits, very dense and unctuously concentrated, with the blackberry element edging further towards cassis. Aromatic herbs highlight the secondary flavors (fresh sage, eucalyptus), and the oak treatment described above has mellowed with the wine’s five years in bottle to the point where the only perceptible feature from the oak is the unmistakable feeling of backbone in the structure and finish; the wine feels substantial while maintaining the soft, lush fruit tannin that Malbec brings so easily. These wines are made in beef country, and the Finca Montuiri’s old-vine depth could take on a marbled, bone-in ribeye with ease, served with a side of oven-roasted potatoes with olive oil and large salt flakes, and grilled zucchini. Other welcome accompaniments include beef short ribs with polenta or grilled bone-in leg of lamb.
Service and Cellar: My sense of the 2016 Finca Montuiri is that it’s a 10-year wine; having some of the cellaring already done for us, I think the Montuiri is in its prime currently and will stay this way for another 3 years. The old-vine Malbec benefits from a red wine cellar service temperature between 58-60 degrees, as well as a decanting upon popping the cork. If you can resist the wine long enough to let it remain in the decanter for 30 minutes after you open it, you’ll be well-rewarded with a lusher mouthfeel.