Coudert 2005 Fleurie Clos de la Roilette (Beaujolais) — Was there a Tardive in 2005? (Checks.) There was. And yet, this clings, and clings well. It’s not robust, it’s not vibrant, it’s not singing. It’s pale and wizened and rather beautiful. It’s a beloved memory, well-preserved. (4/16)
Browse Tag
gamay
Pygmalion
Jean-Marc Burgaud 2005 Morgon Côte du Py (Beaujolais) — From magnum. The knock against Burgaud is that they start hard and stay hard. (Insert your own joke here.) That’s somewhat true, eleven years down the road, but then a Côte du Py should be structured. Still, it’s only somewhat true; the wine’s aromatically accessible, its darker reds softened to an early autumn sunrise, showing half gamay freshness and half pinot noir sophistication, with aged underbrush imbuing the fruit. Will it age longer? Almost certainly, though note the bottle size. Will it get better? I’d wager on another five years with confidence; after that, it depends on one’s taste. (4/16)
Pressel
Lapierre 2007 Morgon (Beaujolais) – Tense. It’s really a very attractive wine, but there’s an overt nervosity beyond the usual Lapierre liveliness…so much so that I’d consider drinking it sooner rather than later, because it seems like it’s about to fall from its tipping point. I could easily be wrong, of course, and since I’m still holding bottles of this from the much-earlier 2000s that are doing fine, history suggests that I am. (8/12)
d’folie of youth
JP Brun 2011 Beaujolas Rosé “Rosé d’folie” (Beaujolais) – Candied redfruit, both crisp and gummy. It’s prettier than that, and more floral, but it’s not the best example of this wine I’ve tasted. Possibly slightly heat-tinged? There are no obvious signs, yet the freshness that usually accompanies the wine is lacking here. (8/12)
Coquelet-o…gamay come & me wan’ go home
Coquelet 2009 Beaujolais (Beaujolais) – The razory, sharp sort of “house style” at Coquelet is here mitigated by the corpulence of the vintage, creating something neither razory nor corpulent, but in fact much more recognizable amongst its peers…albeit from different vintages, because in this one said peers do somewhat frequently veer into rotunditry. So: bursting mixed berries, a bit darker than the norm, a dusting of soil that’s almost-but-not-quite peppery, and a fulsome finish still nicely crisped by acidity. I could drink a lot of this. In fact, I have. But I think this was the last bottle. (8/12)
Colonel Potter
Brun “Terres Dorées” 2009 Morgon (Beaujolais) – Surprisingly open, given that from this year, site, and producer I’m expecting little other than a dense wall of go-away. Instead, there’s dusty morel and sappy blackberry, an almost shockingly nervy structure, and the promise of more insight as the glasses pass into digestive oblivion. (Well, you know what I mean….) I don’t know that it couldn’t go longer, but I do know that it’s nothing to be scared of at the moment. (6/12)
The home of Russian currency
Coquelet 2009 Chiroubles (Beaujolais) – In a boozy, stumbling stage, tripping over its concentrated, lavishly Languedoc-like berries. Time will tell – from others’ cellars, as this is my last bottle – if it comes out the other side, but I’m not optimistic. The structure is already fraying, there’s a little bit of brett, and the alcohol does stand out. That said, with a few hours’ air, this blossoms into a slutty fruit bomb of a wine, which – while not exactly typical of anything except the vintage – would be difficult for anyone but the terminally puckered to not at least kind of enjoy. (5/12)
Deader than a Dorées
Brun “Terres Dorées” 2008 Beaujolais “l’Ancien Vieilles Vignes” (Beaujolais) – Dead. (5/12)
New & old
Brun “Terres Dorées” 2011 Beaujolais Nouveau “l’Ancien Vieilles Vignes” (Beaujolais) – Idiosyncrasy can only do so much. There are some absolutes. So yes, this is Brun and the structure and force he brings to Beaujolais…but it’s still a Nouveau, with that clingy unwillingness to grow from grape to wine. The result is a little goofy, but it’s an appealing goofiness, and in smallish quantities I quite enjoy it. (5/12)
Diet Coquelet
Coquelet 2010 Chiroubles (Beaujolais) – Sharply malic, as this wine can sometimes be, with crisp raspberries just short of what even I’d call ripe, cranberry, and (of course) apple. All nervousness and tension. I’m glad Beaujolais like this exists, but I’m also glad it’s not all like this. For the record, even this specific bottle isn’t always like this. It can gussy itself up all floral and pretty at times, though the sharpness never goes away. (3/12)