A curmudgeon meets the Kimmeridgien; comparing Chablis & Sancerre

As I slip-slide through the last months of my seventh decade, I am still learning new things. Made curious by a comment about the "Kimmeridgien "being missing in the flavor profile of a recently tasted William Fevre Chablis, I was paying attention when the same term was used by Alphonse Mellot to describe his Sancerre “La Moussiere” which I am about to test drive. I have experience with Sancerre, but am new to Chablis. When I tasted my first Chablis a few months back I noted the resemblance of the flavor profile to Sancerre even calling it a “Chardonnay-Sancerre”. Obviously, the grapes are different, but I find the same dry, citrusy crisp, energetic, flavorful notes in both, with no detectable oak to me in either. Am I off base with my limited sampling of Chablis? Not wanting to raise the “terroir” taste issue again, but I am intrigued by the thought that the Kimmeridgien is contributing to the flavor profile of these two wines. Thoughts?

Jim,
Limestone soils pretty much universally impart an intensely salty, mineral flavor, and a more tonic sense of body.
Geologically speaking, the same band of limestone is found in the white cliffs of dover, Chavignol (heart of Sancerre), Chablis, and the prime white wine sector of the Côte de Beaune.
So your sniffer/taster is indeed onto something.

I would say so too, that depending on the Sancerre or even the Savennieres you taste, there could be allusions to Chablis, Jim. And Rob—I’ve found Bott Geyl’s Schlossberg plot puts me in mind of Chablis in a way too…thoughts?

Haere Ra

Mike

FWIW, I had a completely different wine also grown on Kimmeridgian clay, a NV Fitzrovia Rose English bubbly, grown in West Sussex… and intensely salty is an apt descriptor.

Why would this be? As I understand it no one believes now that the actual minerals are taken up through the the roots of the plant or anything. So why would a limestone soil impart such a particular flavor profile?

Maybe it affects other things in the micro-climate / micro-terroir that do affect taste, even if present in minute quantities. I’m pretty sure that it’s not pure H2O that plants absorb through their roots or for that matter their leaves. I’m not sure that science has caught up to our sense of taste and smell. I think basically we are looking at markers as it were. “It’s complicated” (I think).

It occurs to me this could be a good experiment. First a blind ABX type tasting to see if the alleged affinities exist in these different wines (versus other whites). If they do, then the second step is to see what common factors there are in the making of these wines. If not … next topic!

They don’t unless you’re looking for confirmation of the theory.

Limestone soils, at least decaying limestone soils, tend both to drain well and to hold water well. Those are the most important features of limestone soils.

As a secondary benefit, they tend not to be too acidic, tending to have a pH that’s suitable for many plants, including grapes. In some cases, they can be too alkaline and grapes won’t do well, but that’s not the case in the regions where grapes are typically grown, although it is even the case in some places in CA.

Different plants have different preferences for pH - roses and azaleas happen to like slightly acidic soil, while lilacs, oaks and other plants are happy with alkaline soils. You can often get a clue about the pH of soil by looking at the weeds that are growing. But most plants, including vines, like the soil to be somewhat neutral. The pH of soil, at least the top layers, can be affected by compost, cover crops, etc., and can also become slightly acidic as organic matter breaks down. Calcium carbonate, found in limestone soils, can act as a buffer to counteract that acid. But I don’t think that’s the key factor.

More importantly, grape vines are not made up of things drawn from the earth. Grape vines, like all plants, are made from oxygen, hydrogen, and carbon in the air, with sunlight as the driving force. Only small amounts of other elements are required. All plants need certain nutrients, most importantly NPK, which are nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium. Strongly acidic soils are associated with insufficient phosphorus. Calcium-containing soils, because they are not too acidic, ensure that the plant can obtain the nutrients it needs, and that is probably why people like them for grapes. So while soil pH doesn’t have a direct effect on plants, it influences the availability trace elements, especially phosphorus, and consequently the biology and metabolism of the plant. Limestone soils are one type that seems to suit grapes really well.

Because plants need to carefully balance what they take up, they don’t want too much or too little of anything. They have evolved very nuanced methods to select what they will take up and how much of it they will take up. The goal is to meet, but not to exceed, their needs. So provided that there are sufficient nutrients, vine nutrition doesn’t really depend on the vineyard geology.

There is some evidence that there can be an inverse relationship between the pH of soil and the pH of the resulting wine and also some evidence to indicate that sufficient calcium tends to help maintain acidity in the fruit juice as the final ripening occurs, which still needs more study, but there’s no reason for salty flavors.

There are limestone soils throughout Italy, Australia, South Africa, Spain, the CA Central Coast, New York, Slovenia, and elsewhere. I actually had a Slovenian wine last night but didn’t detect any salt.

Can you explain how those weeds grow right out of the concrete in my driveway? [wow.gif]

“Saline” is a characteristic I love to find in many wines (white in particular). But I’m not convinced that any particular geology promotes that character. Riesling is one variety I often find saline in, and most German Rieslings that have it are grown on schist-y type soils, not limestone. And saline might be present in a wine in one vintage, not so much in another vintage. If it was mainly the soil that created the taste sensation, should vintage play such a big role?

While soil no doubt plays an important role in the character of the plant, and the fruit it produces, I’m reluctant to attribute any particular flavor or taste sensation to specific geology. It seems an awful lot like the floral equivalent of phrenology.

I notice that a lot of people generalize about the effects of limestone and then only talk about a few regions in France and possibly the UK (most of the UK vines are not actually on limestone rich soils anyway, but don’t let it get in the way of a good story). As Greg pointed out, there’s limestone in a lot of other parts of the world, and wines from those areas rarely seem to display the characteristics that people attribute to limestone in French wines.

As for why it would be, if enough growers and members of the trade repeat something often enough, I guess it must be true. Or not.

Can you explain how those weeds grow right out of the concrete in my driveway? > [wow.gif]

Well, concrete is in good part limestone right? So those weeds, were you to taste them, should have great salinity! Hell, I’m going to go pull some sidewalk weeds for my dinner tonight!

Side note - we were at a green market a while ago and they were selling purslane. The lady was telling us that it was all healthful and everything and actually it doesn’t taste all that bad - kind of tart and juicy. My wife refused to try it - “That’s a sidewalk weed!”

From Mother Earth News:

It tops the list of plants high in vitamin E and an essential omega-3 fatty acid called alpha-linolenic acid (ALA). Purslane provides six times more vitamin E than spinach and seven times more beta carotene than carrots. It’s also rich in vitamin C, magnesium, riboflavin, potassium and phosphorus.

Ok.
So tell me one single wine grown in high lime content soil that doesn’t taste salty/mineral.
Just one.
As to other regions with high lime soils, look to the Matelica of Verdicchio, abundant examples in different German regions of muschelkalk (their word for shell limestone), parts of Alsace, Alto Adige white wines, the Valais of Switzerland, heck you tell me where there is limestone, and the flavor profile will be there…
I can appreciate the call to rational/hard science looking for concrete evidence as to why, but in my not-so-shallow experience, it is a organoleptic (thanks to David Schildknecht for that word!) matter of fact that wines grown in high lime content soils taste salty/mineral.
Again, tell me one example to the contrary, from any region in the world.
I’m all ears.
As Bruno Clavelier put it to me once: texture, minerality, and feeling are all three things for which there is no scientific measure/answer, and three of the most compelling/essential…

Last night I had made clams in a pecorino/vermouth/parsley sauce, so the wife requested Sancerre to go with that. She rarely makes AOC specific requests, and I tried to deflect it by noting that a) the only Sancerre I had on hand was something I knew nothing about and b) more importantly it was only at Eurocache 57F temperatures rather than the cold fridge temps we prefer for blancs/bubbly. But she was not dissuaded, and poured the 2018 Domaine Curot [Sancerre] into insulated tumblers which I felt rendered the blanc a touch too warm, round, and tropical to pair with a briney/zippy supper. It’s 13.5% abv and at least upon a first (warm?) pour isn’t showing the mineral/salt we were expecting from its region. Because its a NBI import, I thought the roundness/fullness might have been coming from the importers fondness for oak, but according to the website its raised in metal, so my initial explanations for its taste were wrong. Maybe it’ll be more interesting after some air, and it proper chilling. EDIT: Day 2, somewhat better after some air and being cold, and in a regular wine glass. One can pick up a little varietal gooseberry/cat pee S-B varietal character now. Don’t love it, but it would have better yest, if at proper temps/stems. Overall, I’ll give a B in the ledger.

PXL_20220521_223054145.jpg
The (cold) Brocard Chablis we’d had earlier this week - which she liked much better - also felt a touch too soft to me.