2001 Domaine Dujac Chambolle Musigny
Morey-St. Denis, France
$28.99 (found heavily discounted at a NH grocery store!)
www.dujac.com

Over the years I’ve admittedly made a few last minute substitutions when grabbing some wine to take to a party. While I’d never take plonk to a get-together, I wouldn’t bring Premier Cru Burgundy when simple French rosé would suffice either. I’m sure all of us have, at times, made just that same decision when confronted by similar circumstances for a variety of reasons. For some, it might be the thought that the wine in hand really needs a few more years in the cellar. While for others, it may be the realization that those attending the evening’s festivities aren’t really worthy of the elixir we’ve guarded so expectantly. Recently, I was reminded of this scenario while drinking Domaine Dujac’s 2001 Chambolle-Musigny. Four previous bottles had been drunk with little distinction (I gave my fifth to a friend for his birthday). I thought its fruit character simple and straightforward; I thought it showed too much new oak. Mind you, it was always pleasant and most noticeably well-made. It just never lived up to the billing for me. So with its drinking two weeks ago, my last bottle of Dujac served as much more than a delicious accompaniment to house-cured duck confit. It was a revealing reminder of a tenet I’d discovered a few years back, that nothing transforms wine quite like the company with which it’s enjoyed.

Dujac’s 2001 Chambolle-Musigny presented a deep garnet color of medium intensity with freshness enough remaining to suggest there’s more fruit herein for additional cellaring. Showing black cherry, blackberry, and violets to the nose, this wine’s perfume deepened over time to offer licorice and underbrush. I even detected the scent of sweet cured meat! And it nicely delivered a quality I find so compelling about good Burgundy: sinewy concentration in a relatively lean frame, too rare an achievement in New World pinot noir. Its balancing acidity, wrapped in red currant and cranberry flavors, maintained the wine’s freshness from one glass to the next. What distinguished this bottling as truly elegant for me was a persistent, chalky minerality that gave the wine’s dry finish considerable length. Overall, this village level wine is a pretty blend of bright and dark fruit character that’s punctuated by enough tertiary bouquet to captivate anyone who admires good Burgundy. In short, this wine was balanced and pure and a pleasure to drink.

So what stops us from opening our most treasured bottles? What holds us back? I have a hunch that oftentimes it’s more than our skepticism over whether a certain bottle is really ready to drink. Sure, Bordeaux can take decades to achieve its full potential, but even it can reward generously with a few years bottle age provided what’s on our dinner plate—and who’s sitting across the table—is intimately engaging. I reckon a properly cellared bottle of 1982 Cos d’Estournel would taste like nothing more than a properly cellared bottle if served with trite conversation and uninspired fare. So maybe our real obstacle isn’t time after all. Maybe we’re more attendant upon opportunity, that magical convergence of good food with treasured companionship, than we are to time’s passage in a bottle. From my experience getting that duo right is one of life’s bigger accomplishments, so I’m tickled that I’m now blessed with both. Recommended.

2000 Cooper Mountain Vineyards Pinot Noir
Willamette Valley
Organically Grown Grapes
$13.99
www.coopermountainwine.com

You don’t need to be the most observant shopper these days to notice “Organic Foods” prominently displayed at your local supermarket. Eggs from free-range hens, goat milk yogurt, grass-fed beef and every fruit and vegetable under the sun are now offered to you organically. So it should come as no surprise that organic wine has muscled its way onto grocery store shelves across the country too. Typically these wines are shelved not by their country of origin but rather with their organic brethren from near and far. Therefore, it’s not at all uncommon to discover a Chianti Classico couched beside some Sancerre that’s sandwiched between Lodi Zinfandel and New Zealand pinot noir. From my experience much of this wine flaunts its organic pedigree at the expense of real wine quality and I know few wine geeks that take this stuff seriously. For sure, many great wines are made organically but they rarely advertise themselves as being so, preferring to let the wine in the bottle and not the buzzword “organic” do the talking. So I was more than a little skeptical about a bottle of Willamette Valley pinot noir (found next to a white Bordeaux no less) that put its organic breeding front and center on its label but figured what harm could really be done for $13.99. I could always sauté organic mushrooms with the stuff if it wasn’t any good.

2000 Cooper Mountain Vineyards Pinot Noir was pale garnet showing some orange hues near the rim of the glass. At first reductive in odor (sulfur), with adequate aeration this pinot really shined aromatically. With its red currant, raspberry and strawberry nose the classic bright red fruits of pinot noir were here in good attendance. Sweet black cherry and a touch of compost filled this pinot’s palate while nuances of acacia, orange peel, mushroom and underbrush added considerable complexity. I was very impressed. The wine’s mouthfeel was leaner than most Oregon pinot noir, much to my liking, and it offered tart acidity, balanced alcohol and great length of finish. What I found so intriguing about this wine was its chameleon-like ability to show ever-changing flavors and shifting aromas over the course of its drinking. Without question it was excellent with dinner and I wish I had more.

If a wine bottle were a book then its label would be its front cover, its back-copy its sleeve. Upon which would you affix the phrase “Organically Grown Grapes”? Regrettably, I think Cooper Mountain Vineyards, though justifiably proud, over-share with their packaging and as a result are pigeonholed by retailer and consumer alike. Most wine drinkers I know care most about wine quality and less about the how’s and why’s of its production. Yet, from my observation those who exclusively buy organic products frequently do so with a disregard for quality. Their purchasing decisions seem most strongly influenced by “organic” being emblazoned on a label. Yes, many excellent foodstuffs are today produced organically but I haven’t found too many wines solely marketed as such to be very satisfying. That Cooper Mountain Vineyards produces wine of such high quality that is marketed as being organic first and foremost makes this bottle of Willamette Valley pinot noir all the more exceptional. Highly recommended and an overachiever at its price.

2002 Domaine Louis Max Mercurey
“Clos La Marche” Monopole
$20.99
www.louismax.com

Anyone who’s gambled their money away on expensive bottles of Burgundy eventually discovers the charms of Côte Chalonnaise, Côte d’Or’s less prestigious neighbor to the south. On more than a few occasions I’ve returned a coveted Chambolle Musigny to a wine shop shelf in favor of a lowly Mercurey or Givry and been all the happier for having done so. True, these value appellations don’t have the cachet of Volnay or Gevrey Chambertin, but with their purchase enough good money should remain for bread, cheese and a whole chicken for roasting. Try as I might, man can’t live on wine alone! So, with respect for my wallet and good dinner in mind I bought this bottle of “Clos La Marche”, a monopole from Mercurey produced by Domaine Louis Max. Distinctively packaged and affordably priced, I was hoping I’d discovered a new house wine for Chez Marcy.

Brilliantly clear, Domaine Louis Max’s 2002 Mercurey was pale raspberry red in color. This pinot offered light raspberry, earth and leaf to the nose and was very light in fruit extract. Unfortunately, I found it to be thin, somewhat watery and lacking weight and texture in the mouth. This wine was most appealing when paired with food however. Light and nicely balanced, this wine didn’t overpower my meal and was refreshing from sip to sip with pleasant red fruit sweetness accentuated by the addition of food. For sure, this Mercurey wasn’t thought provoking pinot noir but was serviceable all the same. It wasn’t “food wine” as much as wine that NEEDED food to be enjoyed at all. Certainly there are many pinots more interesting and equally adept at flattering a simple meal, but “Clos La Marche” did serve food well and should work wonders with cheese given its low tannin and lightness of style.

Yet, what I find most dissatisfying about this simple Burgundy is the use of the word “monopole” on its creative label. I’ve always understood the term to denote a vineyard both farmed and owned by its managing domaine. What a pity for Louis Max if this simple Mercurey is as good as it gets for their prized monopole “Clos La Marche”. One can only wonder if this wine is made from juice declassified from that site and if Domaine Louis Max is favoring a bigger, more interesting selection of “Clos La Marche” under a different bottling. If true, isn’t that a little underhanded? It leaves me scratching my head uncertain of their marketing motivations and questioning their reputation. I love food friendly wine as much as the next pinotphile but to offer a vineyard designated wine that drinks no better than decent Bourgogne Rouge is ignorant at best and disingenuous at worst. Not recommended.