Appellation: A legally defined and protected geographical indication used to identify where the grapes for a wine are grown. Restrictions other than geographical boundaries, such as what grapes may be grown, maximum grape yields, alcohol level, and other quality factors, may also apply before an appellation name and may legally appear on a wine bottle label. The rules that govern appellations are dependent on the country in which the wine was produced. (adapted from Wikipedia definition).
With a nod to the witty and adorable Stephen Colbert (whose 'Better Know a District series is always good for a larf), I give you the inaugural 'Better Know an Appellation' post. A little wine edumacation won't hurt, I swear. You'll be able to use your newfound wine knowledge to impress girls at parties. After that, you're on your own.
So you ask, what's the BFD about Châteauneuf du Pape? We all see that high-brow, lonely looking wine on the shelf, waiting there with its expensive price tag but getting nary a second glance. It's the one everyone is curious about and nobody buys. You city dwellers--and particularly city dwellers outside of Ontario--may not get this. Let me explain. It wasn't until recently that I even knew there was more than one kind of Châteauneuf du Pape. I thought it was the name of a
winery, not a whole
appellation. Why is that? I'll tell you: it's because all you ever see on the shelves representing the whole appellation is a single offering from one winery. That's it, that's our selection--a selection of 1. If you're from Ontario you know what I mean. It's the bottle with big fancy lettering on the label, and it's kind of old looking and costs around thirty bucks. And the row it stands in is always full, because it's usually sitting next to $10-$15 wine that looks less pretentious and perfectly drinkable. There's nothing to declare it's special, apart from the high price tag. Maybe this is not the case in your bustling metropoli with you big fancy liquor stores, but this is what we have to contend with in the land of tallboys and reservation cigarettes. Although I will say, the Midland LCBO has stepped it up and introduced a second Châteauneuf du Pape. It's in a funny bottle that's made to look antiquey and dusty, and has a weird shaped neck (I'm sorry, but how stupid do they think we are? "Haw haw haw!" laughs the opportunistic French winemaker! "We'll put zees wine into zee funny shape bottle and charge 5 times what its worth! Stupide North Americans! Haw haw!"). I'm sure many of these bottles will enjoy long lives as tapered candle holders in the windows of dorm rooms across the land.
I bought a bottle of Châteauneuf du Pape on our last liquor haul in Barrie. Happily this store is better stocked: they had several to choose from (the dusty, funny shaped bottle was nowhere in sight). I bought it because I'm committed to trying wines I've never experienced before. I'll continue to buy it because it's as delicious as Alan Rickman in a man-blouse. I've really never experienced anything like it, ever. It's unbelievable. It's haunting. But more on that later.
Châteauneuf du Pape is an appellation in the Southern Rhône district. It's warm and sunshiney, but with wicked mistral winds. Said winds cool the vines (and sometimes destroy them), whilst they receive lots of Mediterranean sunshine. This makes for unique, favourable growing conditions. The soil is crummy, or rocky to be more precise--it's the leftover rubble from ancient glaciers and receding shoreline. Perfectly round rocks of all sizes are everywhere. The land is tough to work, but get this: those plentiful round rocks retain heat, warming vines at night, thus facilitating the ripening process. And those same rocks help keep moisture trapped in the soil, so thirsty vines have lots to drink in hot summers. Can you imagine how lush these grapes must be come harvest time? And as if these conditions for super-ripeness weren't enough, wine growers heavily prune back their vines so that their harvests are very low yield. The plant energy is diverted to fewer bunches, which makes for even more lush, dense fruit. This is, by the way, the law of the land. Châteauneuf du Pape legally requires vineyards to yield no more than 35 hectoliters per hectare (this is very low). It sounds strict, but the law ensures that only the absolute highest quality grapes go into the region's wine, thus protecting its reputation.
So what kind of grapes are we talking about here? Well, legally speaking, red Châteauneuf du Pape may be made up of Grenache, Syrah, Mourvèdre, Cinsaut, Muscardin, Counoise, Vaccarèse and Terret Noir. Most of those I hadn't heard of until now. But for reals, the most important one on that list is Grenache, because by law, all red wines have to be 50% from this grape. The other three important ones on that list are Syrah, Mourvèdre and Cinsaut. There are laws surrounding grapes for white wines too, but I think I'll leave it out altogether, as 90% of the wine out of this appellation is red.
Okay, so what becomes of unique growing conditions and strict laws surrounding production? Un-bee-freaking-lievable wine, that's what. People, dig deeper this week and buy a bottle. Please. You will thank me. Truly, I've never tasted wine more fascinating and complex. This week, the wine I enjoyed specifically was
Domaine du Haut des Terres Blanches 2007. I paid around $37 for it at the Barrie LCBO on Bayfield (it was in the Vintages section). There's a photograph of the label at the beginning of this post: memorize it and go seek it out. If it helps, there's a wee circle on the top right hand side of the label declaring that this wine scored 91/100 with Robert Parker. Deeply, deeply flavourful, this wine unravels itself on your tongue. It has a beginning, middle and end, with surprising twists in the middle, like a good novel. I was skeptical at first as it didn't smell like much, but this wine was just holding out on me until I committed to the first sip. At first there's a surprising, bright whoosh! of minerals and red berries across your palate. It then evolves into a mouthful of tantalizingly rich, red fruit flavours. Then a wonderful spiciness starts to tease the edge of your tongue. Finally for an achingly good finish, your mouth fills with deep caramel flavours. You can practically chew this wine's flavour. Utterly, utterly fascinating. It was so rich and complex--perfect for fall weather, when you want your food to be really extra nourishing and satisfying. This wine is the sweat off the neck of your lover during a night of passion.
You want this wine. I hope you've enjoyed the first installment of Better Know an Appellation. It'll be a regular gig on this blog.
'Til next time,
Barb
