2006 Burgundy preview

Above Pierre Damoy looks up the word "Charming" to describe his $625 Clos de Beze V.V.


"This is old school burgundy, a little brett, a little horse saddle," "That's why I'm here," I say and carefully navigate the teams of twenty-four year olds in their $500 suits, clamoring to write something insightful about every one's first peek at the 2006 Burgundies. I am not in a suit, and I know that pleasure needs no insight. Instead I'm wearing a pair of jeans that hopefully don't make me look fat and a sweater over a crisp white shirt. I am somewhat aware that I carry with me the stink of provincialism, coming as I do from New London. The alcohol washes away this feeling, as does the realization that they are all much shorter than me. I resume drinking, and for the next two hours speak to no one, except winemakers.

I had done a little reading before going to this show. Only a little as I think wine criticism tends to poison the mind. The consensus was that 2006 had been a challenging vintage, with hail and rain. People made great wine but, not everybody, and generally speaking white was better than red. I love white Burgundy, I practically bathe in the stuff, so this was fine by me. As it turned out Chassagne, Puligny, even Corton Charlemagne, all disappointed. I started to think it was me. I had been smoking like a second job the night before, and was it four or five double whiskies at the Oasis?

Frustrated, I decided to go right to the money shot, and started drinking Clos Vougeot from every producer that had one. And the scales fell from my eyes or palate. My notes from Domaine Meo-Camuzet 2006 Clos de Vougeot, "predictably fantastic, if a little heavy on the new oak, assiduously defended by a matronly french woman." Notes from Domaine Jacques Prieur 2006 Clos de Vougeot, "Perhaps the perfect Pinot Noir, like a tenor note from Pavarotti, full yet balanced, with the whole spectrum of Burgundy within."

At the Domaine des Perdix table I approached a very attractive and well dressed man (is that vintage Yves St. Laurent ?), and began consuming quantities of his 2006 Echezeaux. This was to become, for me the best wine in the room, and I told him as much in conspiratorial tones. "I can not say such a thing," he says, "but I am glad that you have." My Notes, "best wine in room, smoky soil, raspberry, tobacco, earth, perfect level of expression, perfect volume."

You have to remember that at an event like this, when you walk up to a winemaker, you are just another schmuck with a glass, in a room full of schmucks with glasses. Salespeople, Brand managers, journalists and fake journalists. And the fact that these guys are farmers makes this metropolitan setting hopelessly trite. These people are artists who work the land to create something ephemeral yet timeless. What is more fleeting and haunting than a sniff of Grand Cru Burgundy? Yet the vineyards themselves are hundreds of years old, and these people are stewards of a tradition that spans generations. I can't help feeling that my love for them, pouring across the table is not being returned. To remedy this I resort to shameless drunken flattery seldom seen outside a Prom limo.

I lumber up to Alain Burguet, and speak to a woman I assume to be his wife. "Tell him he is a genius, and he has made me very happy" I say about his 2006 Chambertin Clos de Beze. She translates and he says thank you. Not the effect I was looking for. "Tell him that to drink his wine, is to drink the finest Burgundy has to offer, the finest France has to offer" She translates and this gets his attention, and I see it, pride. He stops what he's doing and shakes my hand. "Tell him that when I drink his wine I feel as if I am a small child, stripped bare of all pretense and expectation, tell him I stand naked before him." She translates, and it's obvious I've overstayed my welcome.

On to Domaine Pierre Damoy where I drink Gevery-Charbertin "Clos Tamiset," a monopole, Chapelle-Chambertin and Chambertin Clos de Beze , three very well made wines. I start to rewrite in my mind, perhaps these are the best wines in the room, among the best I've ever had. Then I realize that I'm far to drunk to make such declarations, besides what does it matter. The wines are simply perfect, superlatives seem redundant. I try a different tact to get to the heart of the matter. How did you make this wine?
Pierre goes on to tell me that 2006 was a hard vintage in that there was serious hail in July causing extensive vine damage. In many cases 80%-90% of the yield was lost to hail. This was followed in August by rain, the enemy of good wine. Vines being plants, they suck up the water and the fruit becomes diluted. Then there are the issues of rot and fungus, both serious threats in 2006. September however was dry with persistent wind, drying out the vines and fruit. "It was a good year for those who waited," and he waited until October 9Th to harvest a small quantity of well ripened fruit. "Enormous Tirage" that is to say, severe sorting and careful selection of fruit. So that very little fruit was turned into even less wine, but that wine was extremely well made, with intense care. At this point I realize that I have accomplished what I came here to do, drink Grand Cru Burgundy and understand the 2006 vintage. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I leave and go to a restaurant to consume ducks.

A quick post script, I had purposely avoided any mention of filthy lucre, feeling it a violation of a sacrosanct, essentially religious experience. It wasn't until a few days later that I took a look. Meo-Camuzet Clos de Vougeot $275, Domaine Perdrix Echezeaux $255, Pierre Damoy Chambertin "Clos de Beze" $625.