Day 5: Pomerol- The Funky Pilgrim of Merlot

First a little music while you read, the amazing Beirut led by some 22 year old super-genius Zach Condon:

We left the cozy Ch. Montlot chambre d’hotes on a foggy morning. Taking a right turn out of the driveway we worked our way through the ancient city of St. Emilion, veered left at a roundabout, and four minutes later were in Pomerol. People often forget how close together things are.After passing Cheval Blanc on our right, the last outpost of St. Emilion, we descended slightly before going uphill where the road slightly crowned next to the beautiful Vieux Chateau Certan. Across the vines, if one knows where to look, is the lone pine tree standing guard over the homely house under which lie the 12 some-odd barrels that make up any given vintage of Le Pin. Alas, our fate though was not to meet M. Thienpoint (though the last time I saw him he gave me a half-bottle of stupendous 1984). Rather, a right turn and a kilometer more, pass Petrus on the right and Lafleur on the left, we started downhill slightly to stop at Ch. Gazin.

Still, not too shabby.

There we were met by the bright-eyed and quick-smiled owner Nicolas de Bailliencourt who showed us around the beautiful grounds. In many ways it was the perfect opening to understanding Pomerol.

Gazin lies on the far northern edge of Pomerol. Across a small stream-bed at the lowest point of the property begins the less-known appellation of Lalande-de-Pomerol. A few hundred yards in the other direction and one is at the edge of Petrus. Indeed, in 1973 Gazin sold some vineyards to Petrus to off-set some debt created by Napoleanic inheritance laws.

Pomerol is unique in that it is all about gravel and clay. There is brown clay and green clay, cracking clays and non-cracking clays. But it is the clay that imbues Pomerol with its unique richness. In contrast, the greatest cru’s of St. Emilion are typically on limestone– Pavie and Ausone for instance are on southerly facing hillsides of argillo-calcaire soils (limestone in French). The best part of Pomerol is shaped like a crown– the edges being gravel and sand leading to clay, the center being dark, ancient clays and gravels with strange water-holding capacities. The soils are quite literally charged slightly differently and hold water in different ways than most soils. The chateaux with the most of these soils are, unsurprisingly, Petrus and Lafleur. Roughly, the more clay content in the soil the more markedly powerful the wine. The more sand, such as at Ch. de Sales, the lighter weight the wine.

gravel and clay soil at Lafleur

clay at Petrus

Gazin, which is the second largest property in Pomerol (the first be Ch. de Sales), lies at the edge of the crown and is thus blessed with soils of nobility and soils of more pedestrian possibility. That the property has believed to be blessed for a long time though is clear. Several of the buildings now part of the chai at Ch. Gazin were long-ago used to house pilgrims as they trudged to-and-fro, surely glad with medieval guilt complexes, on their way to Santiago de Compostela. On this day though the buildings were as beautiful and bright as M. de Bailliencourt demeanor.

The sunny fermentation room has the standard red and white concrete tanks. Also, various basket presses lie to-and-fro, ready to be wheeled next to tanks when they are ready to be evacuated. This is another element of many Pomerol chateaux– a return to the basket press. The wines are fermented with natural yeasts, receive typical pumpover treatments, are allowed extended maceration, and then are put to barrel (in part) for malolactic fermentation.

This latter treatment, which has become standard in much of the new world is still debated in France. Here, where en primeur season decides prices, and critics scores during the period are of enormous importance, anything that can be done to soften the wine probably makes the wines a bit more approachable early. There is a general feeling that by undergoing ML in barrel, the wine tends to soften earlier and integrate oak in a better way. However, for anyone that has tried to keep dibs on so many ML’s, this is certainly not the easiest thing to do and not without some risks. Since malolactic bacteria such as leuconostic and pediococcus bacteria are quite sensitive to sulfur, one does not get to protect the wine from potential microbial infection. Thus, if barrels have any bret or dekkera this is a time where a kink in the normal armor provided a wine by SO2 appears. Thus, it is really a balancing act.

That said, general sanitary conditions in the winery have certainly been upgraded through the years, so on the balance, a wineries chance of spoilage microorganisms making their life hell is probably the same as it has always been.

And the wines.

BTW, I am not putting all my tasting notes up as I tasted so many wines it would be a complete bear to write them all out. Rather, I am just giving my general impressions. Also, many of these wines are so young it is unfair to evaluate them too extensively. It is another one of my beefs with the en primeur system– wines are evaluated so early in their life, where like mood-swinging adolescents they change on a frequent basis, that it seems a bit silly to summarily look at their teeth, slap their rump, and then assign them a score. Yes, one can say that 2005 was a really strong vintage, and that 2004 was “classic,” and that 2006 looks to be pretty strong as well, and that 2007 is going to be pretty bad, but that is about it. Frankly, I loved the 2005 Lafleur and Petrus, but they were so closed down that my score is only reflective of what I think they will become but certainly not on what I am smelling in the glass. In fact, the 2005 Gazin was far more forward and delicious than the 2005 Petrus or Lafleur– if I were rating them today I would claim the Gazin is better. And that is a decision I would probably regret 10 years from now.

The Gazin wines smelled and tasted like everything that Pomerol ought to be. They were rich in perfume, almost heady, with more potent alcoholic weight than anything tasted before, and they were showing how plush and balanced and rich across the palate Pomerol can be. It is a blessed terroir for a reason. Though the 2003 tasted like a 2003, and not necessarily like Pomerol (perhaps more like a Pahlmeyer), it too showed better synchronosity of flavor than many, many other 2003 I have tasted.

All in all, a lovely visit, and an opportunity to discover some wines I was previously pretty unfamiliar with.

Our next stop was in Lalande-de-Pomerol at Chateau Perron, so we crossed the little stream and drove up the hill to the high plateau on which the vines of the appellation take root. The soils here are sandy and gravelly over a base of ironstone. I did not see the ironstone itself so I cannot comment whether it is of the same type that makes the subsoil of McLaren Vale in Australia.

Upon arrival we were greeted with champagne by the lovely M. Massonie– who, on top of overseeing the excellent Ch. Perron, is also the President of Grand Conseil du Vin de Bordeaux which was responsible for creating the scholarship allowing me to be there. Though we spent relatively little time in the cellars, we tasted through several vintages of Perron’s excellent super-cuvee “La Fleur” while at lunch in nearby Libourne. Joining us was M. Massonie’s daughter, Beatrice, who along with her husband, is crafting a culty wine from the even more unknown Montagne St. Emilion area called Ch. Acappella (the wine is fermented in new barrels and hand punched down).

We had a lovely lunch where I again indulged in my new favorite “rognons” and of course had the excellent foie gras that seemed to accompany every meal consumed. M. Massonie and his daughter were great hosts, and we left once again impressed by the hospitality and good-will of every person we met. Unfortunately lunch ran a little late, so we had to race to our next stop.

Perhaps the rarest wine tasted on the entire trip, and surely one of the most touching, thorough visits given to us, were by Monsieur and Madame Guinaudeau of the amazing Ch. Lafleur.

If one needs a lesson in impeccable vineyard management and winemaking one need not look any farther. The Guinaudeau farm their own vineyards by hand. They quite literally know every vine, every slight soil difference, every minute change in potential vigor. The pick according to quality. They put in cover crops in some areas to help absorb moisture. They farm organically, and they farm with love. They farm how one can when one has a tiny property and the bottle price is almost $1500 for recent vintages.

Cover crops planted in low spots to help absorb water and devigorate vines

The winemaking here is as simple as can be. This is truly a place where the grapes make the wine, and everything done in the vineyard is undertaken to allow the winemaking to be as easy as possible. About 80% new oak is used, and the wine is made in a highly traditional way. All 20-some-odd barrels of it.

The two tanks at Lafleur

With the Guinaudeau’s

What is remarkable about Lafleur is its amazing poise. It is more perfume driven, more racy, and distinctly more acidic than any other wine we had in Pomerol. It will be a treat to taste it in 20 years.

Following our lovely visit we headed off to our last stop of the day, Chateau de Sales.

De Sales is about as opposite end of the spectrum as you can get from Lafleur. It is the largest estate in Pomerol and lies quite a distance away and downhill from the crown of quality. Its soils are a combination of gravel with a much larger amount of sand than other Pomerol locations. The resulting wines are not of the greatest quality, but the are almost always solid and good for the price.

In contrast to the tiny estates of Pomerol, the owner Bruno de Lambert, has a much less precise process towards winemaking. Here, not even all of the wine goes into oak, and the percentage of oak that is new hovers around 5%. The result are wines that may seem a bit more “country,” but are in many ways very honest, straightforward wines lacking in much bling. One gets a sense that Lambert, the 7th generation owner, has figured out a system by which he can make a profitable wine, support living in the huge chateau economically, and allow his buyers around the world to be happy. Tradition seems to be the rule in supporting this delicate balance. The grounds do not seem shabby or unkempt, but there is something old in the air. It is the few rooms kept warm in a cold chateau, lying under dark woods, towards the tale-end of a winter sunset. For some reason, at Chateau de Sales one feels the hundreds of years of history imbued in the place, more, and bittersweet.