Pollux Membership December 2023: Home Fires Burning and It Takes a Little More

A winter scene in the Macon while touring with Domaine Thibert.

“Home Fires Burning”

Domaine Thibert Macon-Verze, France 2021

I grew up in a house with a woodstove in the basement; I don’t recall exactly when my parents put it in, but I know I was at least a gradeschooler, so in theory I should have earlier memories…and yet I feel like some of my first vivid recollections are of that stove and all the activity related to it. The sound of my father chopping wood in the backyard. Helping him carry it through the Bilco door, down the steps, and place it on the firewood rack that we had just inside the room, where the concrete floor met the tile. Watching as he built a blaze of red-orange that would soon comfortably heat most of the house. All of the associated scents, from my mother’s packets of potpourri that she would place inside a cast-iron pot and set atop the stove to the most important aroma-that sweet and savory mix of burning wood.

It is amazing how our nascent sensory experiences form lifelong passions; you most likely have a cook or two in your life who were exposed early on to the wonders of fresh ingredients and the smells and tastes of the kitchen. From those first wide-eyed moments of wonder, through all of the campfires, fire pits/places, grills, smokers, and wood-fired restaurant kitchens that followed, a lit hearth has been a constant source of joy, comfort, and peace to me-an elemental, primal association which just goes to prove that for all of my attempts at fanciness I’m just your average Neanderthal at heart.

The smoke of pruning fires shrouding the most distinctive feature in all of the Macon-the dueling rock escarpments of Vergisson and Solutre.

If you don’t like smoke and the scent of burning, January in Burgundy is probably not the time and place for you. The age-old practice of winter pruning yields piles of grapevines, lovingly and meticulously arranged, guarding the entrance to row upon row of vineyard-a ubiquitous sight throughout the region in eastern France, and the smell is even more of a harbinger. Stepping out of your car in the center of whichever village you’ve chosen to begin your journey, you are keenly and immediately aware of the cyclic stage in which you’ve arrived in the annual life of the vineyard. Some others in our group that particular year were having a rough go-round with the fires, what with their routine and mildly scornful observations of the smoky haze’s pas de deux with the ever-present fog, prevailing wind, and permeating damp (to be fair, these were also the same guys who, towards the end of our weeklong Burgundy stay, began committing other blasphemous transgressions, such as turning in before midnight and turning down cheese courses at meals). Burgundy in winter is not Siberia, but when the already shortened sunshine abandons you on a given day, you will feel it.

Not that I’m expecting sympathy; I was, after all, there on a tasting/buying trip, and as we exited the main part of Burgundy known as the Cote d’Or (“Golden Slopes”), I sat in the car marveling at the sudden break in vineyards that exists south of the village of Santenay and pondering the lack of insulation in the rental’s cabin. I didn’t have long to worry about either quandary, as the heat finally began emulating from the dash vents and the vines staged a comeback as we entered the Cote Chalonnaise, a region of excellent value Pinot Noir and Chardonnay produced in such towns as Givry, Montagny, and Mercurey. Another interlude of mere farmland began about 45 minutes after we had originally left our hotel in Pugliny-Montrachet, as we cut east on the D18 in order to enter our destination for that morning, the Cote Maconnais.

The “Macon Slopes” are named after a large town (small city, really, in this part of the world) of about 33,000 people an hour’s drive south of Pugliny. Logic would dictate that Macon’s locale was historically decided by its proximity to the Saone River, but as a wine lover I believe those ancestral planners were less concerned about little details like drinking water and more cognizant of the fact that the hills to the west looked like they’d one day play host to some of the best value Chardonnay on the planet. Just west of Macon are the communes of Solutre-Pouilly and Fuisse, whose combined Pouilly-Fuisse appellation is now so synonymous with great white Burgundy (no reds, as the appellation doesn’t allow for it-any red vines grown here are mostly of the Gamay grape, and declassify to Beaujolais Villages) that for decades it has held a treasured place in the hearts of Chardonnay lovers who don’t want to mortgage their assets on the pricey pinnacle of the Cotes d’Or. The hilly, windswept corridors, created by the beautiful and distinctive rock limestone escarpments named after the communes of Vergisson and Solutre, respectively, are planted back to front with vineyards-the central communes can use the Pouilly-Fuisse appellation, while areas outside of this to the north and west of the forest of Verze are dotted with villages that use the Macon-Villages appellation; complicatedly, some of these towns can append their name to the Macon label, an indication of elevated quality for a village wine.

Exiting the car as we pull into our destination, I am struck by the timelessness of the little hamlet of Fuisse, and of the Domaine I stare up at. Outside the rambling stone structure (clearly added onto multiple times) is a traditional basket press that looks like it helped produce tremendous Chardonnay in the time of Voltaire-it stands now, just for show, at the entrance to the modern cellar of this family estate that has roots in Fuisse dating to 1668-Domaine Thibert.

The winery and offices of Domaine Thibert.

Andree and Rene Thibert both came from a long line of winemakers dating back centuries, before their own dating brought marriage and a tiny shared plot for themselves, planted in 1967. Although both nominally retired by the time I visit, they still are a fixture at the Domaine and remain active in astounding (and sometimes amusing, but I’ll get to that) fashion. The main point of contact for our visit, however, is their son Christophe, who himself returned to the winery in 1991 to take up the family business. Also joining us on and off while simultaneously handling what appear to be scores of other objectives is Christophe’s sister Sandrine, who joined her brother in 1999 as co-manager of their family’s holdings, which comprise several high-quality terroirs scattered throughout the southern Maconnais, many of which have seen eight generations of Thiberts walk their rows. Christophe is a mild-mannered, precise thinker, and his personality is brought forth in the wines: Thibert’s Chardonnays are lean, non-fruit driven bottlings that race across the palate with the same crackle as the criss-crossed stacks of burning grapevines in the surrounding hills.

As we begin a comprehensive tour of the hillsides around Pouilly-Fuisse, I mention to Christophe how much I enjoy the smell and sight of these controlled pruning burns and ask him not to judge me too harshly. He smiles, tells me his mother also loves being outside in the winter during pruning season, and amazingly in her late 70s will still go out each bracing morning with a pair of shears to trim the rows. I admiringly acknowledge her fortitude, to which Christophe shakes his head in a manner which only a son who loves his mother and yet has also been on the receiving end of a lifetime of constructive criticism can, before recounting a story about how, a few weeks prior to our arrival, Andree went out one morning to prune and was so enjoying the frosty morning’s labors that she forgot where on the hillside she was, and ended up pruning a good chunk of a neighbor’s vineyards-Christophe came in for lunch to find his mother cursing to herself and a “thank you” basket of local baked goods from the fortunate neighbor, who got to take the afternoon off.

After tasting in the cellar, we sit down in Domaine Thibert’s peacefully simple dining room for a lunch prepared by the ever-active Sandrine-it too is unpretentious, a duo of roasted chicken and salad. The greens are dressed in a strawberry vinaigrette that was made from fruit Sandrine had preserved from the summer, or at least I think that’s what she said, her French being too quick for me to make out. Perhaps I just wanted to believe that a dressing based on the fearsome wine pairing of vinegar was prepared with this extra touch, because it was so delicious and astoundingly compatible with the Thibert Rose being served that I still remember it over a decade later, and even asked the importer of Thibert’s wines to bring the Rose into the DC market so I could pour it by the glass. The various Chardonnays poured after, which included Pouilly-Fuisse single vineyards and an outstandingly mineral-driven wine from the Macon commune of Verze, elevated the roasted chicken to similar heights; from the fires outside to the hearth, food, and wine within, this was…comfort. Peace. Joy. Like that wood stove, a long time ago.

During other parts of the year, my office receives so much sunlight that I often don’t turn the harsh fluorescent overhead bulbs on at all; at the height of summer’s heat, I literally can’t sit at my desk by the window until mid-afternoon for fear of being incinerated. But here in the Twelfth month, as the days shorten rapidly and drastically, I have moved from my larger worktable to my seat with a view a little before lunchtime. As I write and the memories simmer, the afternoon sun fades and lends the sky an orange hue that is comfortingly familiar.

It is my privilege to welcome Domaine Thibert back to the VA/DC market after a long absence, and to toast Christophe and Sandrine’s efforts to stir embers of their own- centuries of collective winemaking memory, still burning brightly-D.

Domaine Thibert Macon-Verze, Bourgogne 2020

Country of Origin: France.

Places and People: The Thibert family have roots in the Cote Maconnais commune of Fuisse that date back centuries, and some of their holdings that spread across the Pouilly-Fuisse and Macon appellations have been under familial watch for eight generations. Currently, the brother-sister team of Christophe and Sandrine Thibert run the Domaine. Their Macon-Verze bottling, taken from vines in the commune of the same name, is a well-drained slope of limestone with a slightly pitched angle.

Soil: Dark brown clay topsoil hides a rich, chalky white limestone from the Jurassic Period, essential to the wine’s nervy texture.

Grape Varieties: 100% Chardonnay.

Winemaking: The Thibert Macon-Verze is hand-harvested and fermented in stainless steel under temperature control.

Aging: After fermentation is complete, Christophe racks 10% of the Macon-Verze into neutral oak, but the remaining majority remains in stainless steel vats for 9-11 months before being bottled under very light filtration.

Flavors and Foods: A pallid straw hue in the glass gives us a clue that perhaps the 2020 Macon-Verze is more lean and refreshing than expected for a Macon Village wine. The nose isn’t to the same level of astringent cleanliness as Chablis, but notes of lemon curd, honeycomb, bright yellow apple, lemon zest, and sea salt all convey a sense of bracing, pleasant tension and energy-this wine has something to say. The palate reinforces the fact that Thibert’s Macon-Verze 2020 is a Chardonnay for fans of mineral flavors, textural vivacity, and balance-if some richly-adorned Chardonnays are the wine equivalent of Foie Gras, the Macon-Verze is duck fat french fries: a happy indulgence on a more manageable scale. Chardonnay’s typical pineapple flavor is milder here, with the lemon curd and yellow apple making the strongest statement (is that a little lime confit, even?). Food pairings should be tailored accordingly-goat cheeses, chicken Paillard with capers and lemon, oven-roasted whole chicken with potatoes and assorted vegetables spread around it in the pot, and pan-seared skatewing in brown butter all come to mind. The pairing so optimal that I accidentally wrote it down twice: traditional moules marinieres (mussels cooked in white wine and butter) with frites.

Service and Cellar: The Thibert actually does well when served at the lower end of a white wine temperature spectrum (48-50 degrees F), keeping the acidity in check and making for a smoother overall mouthfeel. This Chardonnay’s crystalline qualities will allow for aging; enjoy the 2020 Macon-Verze right now or cellar it for another 5-6 years.

It takes a little more to be an artisan-Axelle and Pierre Cordurie working their rows of vines by horse, eschewing modern farming machinery.

“It Takes a Little More”

Chateau Croix de Labrie “Les Hauts de Croix de Labrie”

St. Emilion Grand Cru, Bordeaux, France 2019

Back in my high school days in the late ‘90s (I’m sorry, but if you went to high school earlier than that just know that I still feel old), there was a sports marketing campaign run to perfection by the brand Champion. The slogan offered at the end of each TV ad was “It takes a little more…to make a Champion.” I remember this, not because I have a nostalgic wistfulness for late 1990s sportswear, but because the saying was co-opted by my high school football coach, Coach Turnbaugh, who proceeded to bellow this phrase in our direction whilst we ground through whatever barbaric conditioning drill he had set forth on that particular day. “You getting tired, Hale?!?!?! You need this!!! This is the fourth quarter, and the other team’s gassed, because they’re not training like you are right now, Hale!!! It takes a little more to make a champion!!!” Gassed or no, at those moments I usually would have welcomed an opportunity to join the other team, where presumably I’d be sitting on a couch somewhere going over the playbook with a bowl of Doritos.

I’ve written before about the level of commitment that it takes to truly be exceptional at what you do, and as I get older I have come to believe that it actually DOES take a little more. Now, what that helpfully ambigious marketing phrase actually means is another question altogether, as some artisans are better served being Renaissance men or women instead of blinders-wearing visionaries, but as I evaluate my favorite producers in the wine world-the Domaines and winemakers who I’m most excited to advocate for-my short list is full of anecdotes that border on insanity, illustrating the utmost dedication to their craft. I know a vigneron in Burgundy who left his wife alone on a non-refundable international vacation because he saw on a weather report that a heat wave was coming and he needed to return to care for his vineyards (in a happy ending, they actually stayed married). A favorite Spanish winemaker, in addition to working the vineyards and vinifying the wines all by herself, hand-paints each and every one of the cardboard six-packs that house her bottles. Are these fun tales of tenacity actually just a sign that these artisans need to delegate, to become more familiar with logistics and labor, to learn the French equivalent of the phrase “Happy wife, happy life”? Maybe so, but I will tell you this-as a two decade-plus wine professional, my absolute favorite producers exhibit these cooky “above and beyond” behaviors, and I find a remarkable synergy between their commitment and the resulting wine in the glass.

About a year ago, a Bordeaux winemaker made their debut in the DC/VA market with an importer friend of mine who was starting his own company-the Chateau’s sign of trust in his new business perhaps is its own indicator of their admiration for hard work and harder workers. Although a relatively new winery and not blessed with bountiful quantities of production, the wines have become critical darlings and were a hit with GWC clients, but their pricing, while excellent in comparison to their quality, made a Membership Feature impossible…until now, when a new cuvee meant as a stylistic introduction was happily made available. Allow me to introduce Axelle and Pierre Courdurie and their astounding St. Emilion Grand Cru Chateau, Croix de Labrie.

The stone facade of Croix de Labrie’s Chateau.

Being artisanal in Bordeaux gets a bit…dicey. The noble goals of working ecologically and maintaining small productions are, quite simply, not on the overall action item list for the majority of the region. However, across the Gironde estuary from the ocean, the appellations of Pomerol and St. Emilion (the “Right Bank”) have a situation that is both easier and more challenging than their neighbors on the Atlantic side. In St. Emilion and Pomerol, more estates have vineyards located away from their actual cellar/Chateau, which contributes to an increase in shared land areas, and complicates one’s ambition to employ rigorous soil treatment/biodynamics-as is the case in other regions of France (Burgundy in particular), the parcels owned can be so tightly abutted that, quite simply, if your neighbor is not organic, neither are you. On the plus side, the elevation and topography is slightly more varied, with St. Emilion alone sporting double-digit variances in soil type, and individual estates are not afforded the huge swaths of land that many of their counterparts on the Medoc side of Bordeaux enjoy. Consequently, where a 5th-growth classified Chateau in Pauillac might make 35,000-40,000 cases of its flagship wine, St. Emilion Grand Cru Classe producers often check in at under 10,000 cases in total, across all of their cuvees.

In trying to present an exclusive, debonair aura, St. Emilion’s wines also benefit historically from their cepage-the bold, bruising Cabernet Sauvignon cannot dominate on this side of the river, separated from the cooling influence of oceanic breezes. Rather, it’s the red-fruit profile of Cabernet Sauvignon’s compatriot Melot that takes center stage, along with the spicy, unctuously dark Cabernet Franc.

Chateau Croix de Labrie, whose cellar is located in the inland commune of St. Christophe-des-Bardes and dates from 1687, produces-at most, in exceptional vintages-around 2,200 cases, to include their young vine cuvee and new entry to the market, “Les Hauts de Croix de Labrie”. Croix de Labrie is the creation of Pierre and Axelle Courdurie; the couple acquired their historic cellar in the early 2000s and immediately set about looking for something a little more: the vineyards they were able to purchase include prized parcels in Badon, next to Chateau Pavie, and Le Cateau in St. Sulpice, bordering the very first plot that Jean-Luc Thunevin purchased for his vanguard estate, Chateau Valandraud. St. Emilion’s trademark limestone soil features in most of their holdings, including the Badon plot and those the couple owns next to their cellar in St. Christophe-des-Bardes. The vines in Le Cateau are closer to Pomerol, and consequently are comprised more of that appellation’s famed gravel.

Co-owner, winemaker, champion of ecology, and generally just “a little more” all around, Axelle Courdurie makes my job easier: delicious wines made by an uncompromising talent.

The location of the vineyards only tells a small part of Croix de Labrie’s story, however: the real triumph of these wines is Axelle Courderie and her drive to create exceptional bottlings. From pruning to harvest, vinification to bottling, Axelle controls each aspect of the wine’s journey from grape to glass. A look inside the vineyard work at Croix de Labrie reveals many iterations of the “It Takes a LIttle More” mantra: traditional method vineyard plowing and treatments, made by horse. No less than 4 sortings of the berries at harvest time, vineyard sorting with multiple passes, than a de-stemmer and a vibrating harvest table that drops fruit based on must weight. Groundcover and grass are abundant in all of the vineyards of Croix de Labrie-in an era when climate change is at the forefront of many vignerons’ minds, Axelle says that during the height of the growing season she routinely sees her ground temperatures 5-6 degrees F lower than her neighbors due to her natural ground cover that is maintained underneath the vines. Axelle looks for each vine to produce a maximum of six bunches of grapes, thereby lowering yields and contributing to the densely concentrated mouthfeel of each of Croix de Labrie’s cuvees. When the time comes to actually make the wines, Axelle’s deft touch is augmented by the Chateau’s creation of small containers for the grapes to be fermented and vinified in, each a custom size that corresponds to the size of a specific vineyard plot-the goal is to work with small quantities of juice and be strict in their selection of what makes the final cut. In their cuvee “Les Hauts de Croix de Labrie”, younger vines of 25+years that are located closer to the city of Libourne in the western part of the St. Emilion area are employed, grown on stony, sand-based soils that, like the sandy soils in Chateauneuf-du-Pape that serve as foil to the more powerful plots planted on river stones, produce ethereal wines of elegance and concentration.

I remember very clearly a performance of the musical “Chicago” I attended that featured two actors I’d gone to school with. As a performer, you are constantly fighting the temptation to compare yourself to everyone else, and just focus on internal improvement. Sitting in the audience that night, watching my friends do what I had once dreamed of doing, I had an epiphanic moment wherein all the emotions I used to feel watching someone pass me by, the envy or insecurity brought on by someone “beating” me, left my body and were replaced with feelings of vicarious joy, inspiration, and gratitude to these talented people and what they were bringing to the stage. In the world of wine, I’ve tried to keep that sentiment intact. Encountering winemakers with the attention to detail and zero-compromise style of Axelle Courderie and Chateau Croix de Labrie can be intimidating, but although their pursuit of excellence has contributed to many accolades-noted wine critic James Suckling placed the 2020 vintage of their flagship wine at a near-perfect 99 point rating-the real testament to this winery lies not in publicity or self-promotion; in fact, in researching Axelle, one gets the distinct sense that she would be this way if she was making wine for no one, or if she had another vocation altogether. That is the essence of what it means when an artisan decides that he or she will “take a little more” to express themselves fully-you work, not to appease superiors or clients, but rather for your own sense of a job well done, and through that quest, the remainder takes care of itself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I hear Coach Turnbaugh yelling again; time to run another set of hills-D.

Chateau Croix de Labrie St. Emilion Grand Cru “Les Hauts de Croix de Labrie”, Bordeaux 2019

Country of Origin: France.

Places and People: Axelle and Pierre Courdurie founded Chateau Croix de Labrie in the St. Emilion commune of St. Christophe-des-Bardes, about a five-minute drive east of the village of St. Emilion and in the eastern part of the appellation. Their flagship Croix de Labrie and second wine “Chapelle de Labrie” have become sensations with the critics, and allowed them the opportunity to craft an introductory bottling mirroring those two wines, “Les Hauts de Croix de Labrie”. The vines for this cuvee are 25+ years of age and come from estate vineyards in the western part of St. Emilion AOP, closer to the city of Libourne.

Soil: Stony, sandy soil that characterizes this section of St. Emilion that according to winemaker Axelle, produces a more “ethereal” wine.

Grape Varieties: 85% Merlot, 15% Cabernet Franc.

Winemaking: In keeping with the Chateau’s exacting standards, “Les Hauts” 2019 is harvested by hand and carried in wooden crates to the Chateau. Prior to that, pickers go down each row several times to sort fruit. Once reaching the cellar, the fruit is manipulated solely by gravity and sorted again on a vibrating sorting table that is programmed to drop fruit not of optimal ripeness. Fermentation and vinification occur under temperature control in small tanks specifically adapted for the plot, with each plot vinified separately before an assemblage is made.

Aging: The 2019 “Les Hauts de Croix de Labrie” spends 14 months in barriques, half of which are new. The entire production of the “Les Hauts” is 1,000 cases.

Flavors and Foods: A vibrant ruby color awaits you at the outset of a glass of “Les Hauts”; the nose is a cornucopia of red and black fruits (the black fruits carrying some of Cabernet Franc’s currant-driven spiciness), with a wonderful cologne-like musk aroma behind it. The balance between fruit profile and savory notes is best appreciated on the palate, with Merlot’s raspberry and cherry presented in a densely concentrated fashion, like the finest of reduced sauces. The tannins are medium-plus and sourced from both the oak barrel aging and the grapes themselves. Non-fruit elements in this complex wine include horse saddle leather, musk, potting soil, and desiccated red flowers-the interesting thing about “Les Hauts” is that the non-fruit actually comes out on top in the battle of what your palate is experiencing the most, but the fruit that is present is so powerful that you truly have both old-school and modernist Bordeaux in the same bottle. The presence of so much red fruit means that the “Les Hauts” 2019 can serve as a regal stand-in for Rhone Valley red food pairings: rack of lamb seasoned with fresh herbs and sea salt, duck breast sliced and served in pappardelle pasta, and beef cooked in the oven at high temperature that has a higher portion of fat content (prime rib, chateaubriand side of the tenderloin) all dance through my mind as I enjoy the “Les Hauts”.

Service and Cellar: The lower side of the red wine cellar temperature spectrum (58-60 degrees F) serves to keep the concentration of this wine’s fruit, and I also recommend a healthy decanting time if you’re enjoying the “Les Haut de Croix de Labrie” now; pull the cork on this wine 1-2 hours before you’re planning to pour for your guests. Should you prefer to save this beautiful bottle for guests you’ll meet in the future, you can take comfort in the fact that the 2019 “Les Hauts” has a comfortable 10-15 year life span, meaning it can be cellared for another decade easily.