Gevrey-Chambertin. It’s the first biggish and, of course, major wine village that you hit when heading south into the Cote de Nuits, and as you head down the Route des Grands Crus out of town towards Morey-Saint-Denis, the road bisects the famed grand crus, Charmes, Mazoyeres, Griotte and Chapelle on your left (east, downslope) side and Latricieres, Mazis, Ruchottes and the jewels of Chambertin and Clos de Beze up over your right shoulder. For any wine lover, it’s a compelling sight, one to set the taste buds tingling and, alas, credit cards wilting.
Hence it’s rare for me to have the chance to taste through four mature wines from the same producer and vintage at home, not the usual quick slurp from barrel of the latest vintage and move on, but a more leisurely and considered chance to taste, think, go back and retaste. These days it’s a luxurious and fascinating way to try to delve a little deeper into the terroir. Same grape, same winemaker, same village – so can you taste the difference? Do the wines from the north of the appellation, above town and besides the Combe Lavaux ‘valley’ that descends from the west bringing cooler air, taste noticeably different from those south of town and alongside that famously grand road?
Dupont-Tisserandot was a rather under the radar domaine that I was put onto by our favourite sommelier/restaurateur (Vin sur Vin in Paris) about fifteen years ago. Wines that were elegant, not hyped and (then) affordable. Wines transparent to their terroir, not built to impress. Sadly in 2013 they were bought out by Faiveley and today the value proposition is doubtless very different.
2009 was a sunny vintage, and one where you might fear that the ripeness of fruit would somewhat hide the supposed terroir, lush, plush dark berry fruitiness that subsumes any subtleties of place. Or does it?
Of the four wines, two came from the Combe end of the village – Lavaux St Jacques and its famous neighbour Les Cazetiers (in between them sits Clos St Jacques, the vineyard that everyone agrees should be a grand cru). The two wines had distinct similarities, a roundness and softness of fruit, a certain weight, elegance, some creamy texture, ripe but not at all overly so, the Cazetiers (where the hill turns a bit more easterly from the south facing Lavaux) perhaps the more imposing.
Heading south along that famous road, La Petite Chapelle as its name suggests sits beneath its grand cru big brother, a little too low on the slope many would say. But the wine was distinctly different, the texture crisp and crunchy, the fruit tighter and more powerful, a wine that did not have the roundness and weight, but more minerality. If I could describe it as more vertical than the other two that were more horizontal, I don’t know if that makes sense? On paper you’d probably say it was the lesser of the three 1e crus, but we found it to be the most exciting, tighter and more aromatic, with that crunchy bite to it. Yes, the cherry fruit was similar, but the shape, the feel was not. More linear and not at all reflecting the (over)abundant sunshine of 2009.
Then we crossed the road into hallowed territory and took a few steps up to the most northerly of the grand crus, Mazis-Chambertin. And here you might almost say that you found a mixture of the two sides of the coin, more of the roundness and weight of Lavaux/Cazetiers, but more of the perfume of the Petite Chapelle. It was also a wine that you needed to take time with, as the more you tasted it, the more there seemed to be, a wine of more finesse than its lower down cousin, and, on reflection, more complexity. Subtly nuanced, but not at all massive.
By the way, on looking at my notes I see that apart from the obvious Clos St Jacques, (& Combottes which sits between the grand crus Latricieres-Chambertin and Clos de la Roche in Morey), one of the 1e crus in Gevrey that I’ve enjoyed the most seems to be Petite Chapelle, from Dupont, Jadot, Bruno Clair and Machard de Gramont. For sure, here it was the best in terms of bang for your buck. Has that proximity to grandeur conferred a touch of nobility?
Four wines, four different shades of red. Intriguing.
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