After a hearty breakfast of ham, cheese, and croissants at the gîte, we set off for Vosne-Romnée, a tiny commune about 30 minutes north of Beaune that is home to some of the most famous vineyards in Burgundy, if not in the world.
Our first stop was at Domaine Gérard Mugneret, which just so happens to be the next-door-neighbor to a little establishment known as Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. More on that later.
Pascal Mugneret led us down a short flight of stairs to the simple underground cave and began to expound on the importance of terroir in his winemaking. His goal as a winemaker, he said, is to stay out of the way of the terroir, and to let it speak for itself. He explained in detail the differences between the various soil and rock strata in the area and their role in creating the complex yet elegant Pinot Noirs that make the region’s wines world-famous.
Wine-tasting in Châteauneuf-du-Pape had been a fairly laid-back affair, even at the world-class Château de Vaudieu; in Burgundy, I was learning, wine-tasting is treated reverently, almost like a sacred ritual. The winemaker spoke in hushed yet passionate tones about the depth of soil, clay, sand, and limestone in each parcel we tasted from. We were largely tasting barrel samples of the still-aging 2013 vintage, each with its own distinct personality, bright red fruit playing against gripping tannins.
After a morning spent on Pinot, we headed south to Chassagne-Montrachet for some Chardonnay at Domaine Bernard Moreau et Fils. One of the “fils” (sons), Alex, led us through an incredible side-by-side comparison of a dozen wines from Premier Cru vineyards, each with a unique nuance of minerality and acidity. Once again, the importance of terroir was stressed, and its effect was clearly noticeable with each wine showing its own distinct flavor profile character thanks purely to the expression of the soil, rocks, clay or sand it grew out of. Each wine rang its own pure note, clear as a bell: Meyer lemon, pink grapefruit, crisp pear or creamy vanilla, often with differences of just a few feet between rows or parcels to create a profoundly different experience.
We were on a tight schedule that day, so we went for a “quick” lunch (only two courses, sigh) at Auprès du Clocher in Pommard on the recommendation of Alex Moreau. The grey, chilly morning had given way to a stormy afternoon, but the rain just made our coq au vin that much more satisfying. The wine-soaked chicken fell off the bone into a rich broth of bacon, mushrooms, and vin rouge that paired naturally with an excellent bottle of Bourgogne. The chef greeted us warmly as we were leaving, wishing we could have stayed longer.
Our next appointment was at Domaine Comte Armand just across the way, where we met the newly-fledged winemaker, Paul Zinetti. Paul had just taken over from Benjamin Le Roux, who had recently departed to focus on his own projects. The new winemaker was clearly crestfallen over the recent hailstorm which hit that region of Burgundy especially hard, ruining as much as eighty percent of the crop in some areas. Paul was stoic in the face of (potential) adversity, however, and cheered up especially when discussing his Aligoté wines, a traditional yet lessern-known white varietal grown from old vines in tiny quantities. The Pinots we tasted, barrel samples from 2013, showed intense tannic structure and elegant minerality that will surely make a great name for the next generation of winemaking at Comte Armand.
Our last stop was, ironically, at Benjamin Le Roux’s own eponymous winery in Beaune. Benjamin discussed the vagaries of the wine industry, not just in the fluctuations, of nature, but also in human variables such as changing global demand and palates. He also expressed the importance of balance in a winemaker’s personal life, saying that while his wines might be like his children, his actual (human) children will always come first. Zen lessons to round out a day that was the equivalent of a master class in Burgundy.
After a day full of wine, Drew just wanted a beer; we lounged on a café terrace while France won a match in the Coupe du Monde, moving into the semi-finals. All of Beaune erupted into a makeshift parade, fans of all ages with painted-blue faces, French flags, and streamers marching in the streets and honking car horns in celebration.
Still half-full from lunch, we ended the day with another “light” dinner of escargots and steak tartare, both Burgundian specialties. Escargots are not something I would want to eat every day, but raised on fine herbs and drenched in butter, they are not unlike mussels but earthier, as is to be expected.
Finally, we headed back to the gîte to drink a bottle of Gigondas and watch a terrible movie dubbed in French. The usually sleepy placed had become a veritable war zone, with much screeching over the owners’ cat who had apparently gotten into a scuffle with a new tenant’s Weimaraner. Once the wailing subsided, we enjoyed a quiet evening, with an awful movie made palatable by an awfully good bottle of wine.