Hi John,
We are on the same page, mon ami .
Cheers,
Blair
Hi John,
We are on the same page, mon ami .
Cheers,
Blair
Most village wines in 1999 wines drank well young and are drinking well again. As did many of the 2002s. Oaking a village Vosne to the point where it cries for mercy is a winemaking decision that intentionally punts early drinkability for questionable long term benefit enjoyed only by those who drink the (even you’ll admit) tiny fraction of bottles that are aged for a decade plus.
As you probably know, 99 was a fairly anomolous vintage. How many did you taste young and what do you think of them now?
Whether it’s a questionable winemaking choice to use a lot of oak really depends on what the track record of that wine is, and whether it tastes better with age than young.
“Oh, we’re superb winemakers, and we want you to pay 3-figures for a low-end cru everyone else charges $50 for, and if you open one now, it’s going to suck, and if you open one in 9 years, it’s going to suck, but in 15 years it will be awesome! Buy as much as you can afford on complete faith!”
Maybe that argument worked 30 years ago when Burgundy was $5 a bottle, but those days are long gone. These days the best Domaines are skilled enough to make Burgs that drink well young so you can actually determine if this is a producer you want to buy more of. Heck, even Gouges has figured this out. (Even Leoville Barton and a host of Bordelais, for that matter.)
Nick – It sounds like you’re talking about approachability, which is different from whether the oak is integrated young.
What percentage of these wines do you think are opened at age 10 or later, with the “correct” (whatever that means) age on them?
David, I have no idea what the percentage is, but judging by the number of tasting notes I see on 2010 grand crus (even Cortons) and 1er crus, it wouldn’t shock me if the percentage is quite low. Doesn’t make it right or wrong, but for me, I prefer my burgs with age on them.
I had an 02 Fixin from Meo (non domaine) a few months ago and it was drinking very well with 3-5 years left in the tank at least. It was well balanced with sappy red fruits, excellent acidity and pleasant secondary notes. At 10 years old, it was near, if not at peak, for my palate.
I was the one who wrote the note on the 09 VR that Blair mentioned above. Some of the other 09s I tried that day at Meo I did notice some smoky and spicy oak notes, but clearly I didn’t in the VR (or perhaps they were subtle enough that I didn’t make note of them as this was a cellar visit so I didn’t have more than a few minutes with each wine). As Blair mentioned, I tend to prefer ‘old world’ wines (95% of my cellar is France/Italy/Germany from mostly traditionally-minded producers) and I often pan many, many wines for being over extracted, overripe and over oaked, whether they are from France, the US or wherever. So I have to admit I was shocked that you found this wine to be an oaky mess while I clearly didn’t (as usually I’m on the side of claiming there’s too much oak while others think it’s fine).
Another taster on CT (who is experienced in Burgundy) mentions some oak spice, but in a positive way, and his barrel sample was from a new barrel, so 100% new oak vs. the 50% new oak blend that was bottled. I also note that Gilman mentions a “deft framing of spicy oak” in his barrel sample note on this wine, which is sounds fine to me, especially considering his lack of affection for heavy use of oak, to put it mildly. Neither Meadows nor Tanzer mention any oak at all in their in-bottle tasting notes, although Tanzer does mention Oriental spices.
As I mentioned, whenever there is an “over-oaked” debate, I’m usually the one in your position (saying over-oaked), so I find it odd to be on the other side of the fence with this particular wine. My tasting note was from around 20 months ago, right after bottling, so the only thing I can think of is if the oaky notes have come to the forefront after a few years in bottle and now is not a good time to be drinking this wine. Or it’s something like what Nick Ryan referred to: different people are sensitive to different types of oaking—perhaps a combination of both.
But either way, I think time will resolve whatever oak there is and this will be a great village wine in 5-7 years, when it was meant to be drunk (my opinion as well as Jean-Nicolas’).
I had an 02 Fixin from Meo (non domaine) a few months ago and it was drinking very well with 3-5 years left in the tank at least. It was well balanced with sappy red fruits, excellent acidity and pleasant secondary notes. At 10 years old, it was near, if not at peak, for my palate.
The '09 Fixin 1er Clos Chapitre is relatively simple and tasty. Good one for testing the vintage prediction about gaining complexity. No overtly protruding oak. Half the price of the Vosne, but they’re still not giving it away at $45 - $50.
RT
Just out of curiosity, I glanced at Alan Meadows’ review of this wine. First, no mention of oak. Second, “Drink: 2016+”. Frankly, I’d think with my limited experience with Meo-Camuset that would be about right in a vintage like 2009 that is a bit on the early drinking, charming side. In 2010, he noted “Drink: 2018+,” which I would have guessed is a bit short, figuring on 2020.
Nick – It sounds like you’re talking about approachability, which is different from whether the oak is integrated young.
If the winemaker was not skillful enough with the oak, then that may harm enjoyment when young (e.g. the oak juice bombs that legions of Spanish winemakers made during the iron(wood)-fisted reign of Dr. BigJay). Roty is very skillful with his oak, able to use extreme amounts and yet make their wines show nicely out of the gate.
I am not sure from whence all the Meo hating is originating but it is really ok to not like something that others find perfectly OK. I might not like a wine and others might love it. That in my book is what personal experience is all about. Trying to prove that someone can pick up something that I don’t is in no way educational to me. I can’t pick it up no matter how many times I try the wine. My senses are just not set up for it. It is not a fault. It is the way I am wired. Describing your experience is useful. Hating on the producer is not. FWIW.
As an addendum, there are many wines from Dominique Laurent that get big oak treatment. When young they are pretty difficult even for someone with big tolerence. When they get 10 to 15 years old however they can be absolutely sublime. Why would I drink them when they are in that early stage where I can’t tolerate them? Also, I don’t hate on Dominique Laurent for this. It is his choice and I choose to avoid the wines when young. If you ever taste his Clos de la Roche with more than a few years on it, however, it will blow you away.
This idea that extremely oaky wines are not meant to be drunk young seems curious to me. I thought one of the main reasons for using a lot of new oak was that new oak is more porous than old oak and so you get increased oxygen exposure during elevage which has the effect of polymerizing and smoothing out some of the natural tannin in the wine, thus making the wine easier to drink younger. While there is certainly evidence that oak flavors integrate with time, is there evidence that oak tannins will resolve with time in the way that grape tannins will?
I’ve wondered about this issue in the context of modernist piedmont wines as well.
There are different reasons to use oak. It can be a way to tart up a wine – giving it sweet vanilla elements that make it tasty young. That’s particularly true of American oak. Vanilla, like garlic, can be irresistible, but it can also be used to cover up a mediocre wine or food. It can be the sucker factor, tricking people into liking a wine that really doesn’t have anything to recommend it beyond oak.
But in wines meant for serious aging, it can add complexity and some different tannins as well as allowing the slow oxygen contact. Burgundy and Bordeaux, there is a long history of using new oak for this reason rather than for instant gratification.
In Piedmont, I think barriques contribute flavor and sweetness that makes the wine more appealing young. They also fix the color, so barriqued nebbiolo tends to be much darker than unoaked nebbiolo. I think the modernists relied mainly on shorter maceration times to moderate nebbiolo’s tannins; I’m not sure how much the barrels helped on that score.
As for oak tannins resolving, they must because there are lots of silky old Bordeauxs and California cabs that were very oaky young.
Oak might integrate, but it doesn’t always integrate. I disagree with David’s assessment of Meo, but it seems to me that finding a young wine to be marred by oak, and making a judgment as to whether or not that oak will integrate, is one of only a handful of judgments that is really useful to make when a wine is very young.
This is a domaine wine. This put some tonnelier’s kid through college, but otherwise is basically worthless. There seems like there is decent, albeit stony/red fruited/high-acid raw material under here, but it clashes with, and eventually drowns under, the waves and waves of vanilla and caramel and coconut and the oak tannin that gives this the texture of whole milk. Nasty stuff.
FWIW, I’ve never had luck with the old tale that high-slope village plots perform well in warm vintages; be it this wine, Anne Gros’s Combe d’Orveau, Daniel Rion’s Vosne village. Nothing but swings and misses.
I’m not a fan of Anne Gros or Rion in general.
I’ve had really good luck over the years with Geantet Gevrey Poissenots in warm vintages. It’s at the top of the Combe, pinot fin, and well drained. Anyway, I’ve liked it, you may want to give it a shot.
The oak is so bad that I recognized, without looking it up, that it was francois feres, because I remembered the smell from a bottle of W. Selyem from last year. Seleym may be the oakiest of the big new world producers.
I know this isn’t the main thrust of this thread, but did anyone else do a double-take when they read this comment?
Meo-Camuzet has a very interesting discourse on their use of oak on their web site:
We often hear the remark: “you have altered your policy for new oak and your wines are not as woody as they were some time ago.” The fact of the matter is that we changed a long time ago but it takes time for people to adjust.
Back in the 1980s, our wines proudly exhibited their aromas of torrefaction and smoke - aromas that are still in evidence today. We may therefore say the wines never really overcame these aromas and that some sort of adjustment was needed. Incidentally, it should be noted that new casks are not used for their aromatic contribution but for the gradual inflow of oxygen, crucial to the revelation and full development of great wines. The aromatic influence is a secondary effect that needs to be controlled.
The difficulty lies in adapting the new barrel to each wine and each vintage. No matter how hard we endeavour to build up general theories, they will sooner or later be gainsaid by the facts. For example, “mature vintages do not absorb the wood as well as vintages with a good acidity”. By this reckoning, the 2003 wines should not have taken the wood well. In actual fact, quite the opposite happened. By way of contrast, the 2002 vintage is woodier than one would have imagined at the outset. In other words, the way a vintage reacts to a new cask is to a large degree unpredictable.
Confronted with this situation, two paths are open to us. One solution is to eliminate the element of uncertainty by diluting the new cask in a much higher proportion of old casks. Such a move may be justified for the lesser wines, to be drunk “on the fruit”, but we deprive ourselves of an extra dimension in the case of great wines.
The second solution consists in working with the cooper to find casks suited to all situations. This is a challenge, for the cooper’s profession is part craft and part industry. Origin, diversity of trees within the same forest, heating methods varying slightly from one team to another - all these factors can make a big difference to the final product. The problem is that what the winegrower needs above all else is continuity.
We have worked closely with Maison François Frères to determine the most suitable heating methods: not too strong, rather light even, as this favours the vanilla, liquorice and mocha flavours which over time blend to perfection with the aromas of the wine.
Our investigations, continuing to this day, have also focused on the origin of the wood. If certain wines are less at ease in the cask, is this not precisely because the wood’s origin is not suited to them? As far as we are concerned, the wood from Bertranges Forest (near Nevers) provides the casks best adapted to our style and the diversity of soils and vintages. Tronçais Forest is also worthy of interest: it can produce truly fantastic casks but they sometimes tend to mark the wines a little too much at the end of maturation. They should therefore be used as a complement and not as the main cask. Other origins may be considered. In recent years, Hungarian wood has come to the fore. Its price is a factor in its favour, though obviously not one which weighs heavily with us. Preliminary tests have been promising. These casks cannot claim to replace French wood but they make an interesting addition to certain wines. They now have to prove that they are capable of doing so in the long run.
Lastly, the only variable with any claim to reliability with regard to the wine’s behaviour in the cask is the ‘terroir’. For example, certain wines react well to a high proportion of new casks and wood from Tronçais Forest, while others are more sensitive and embolden us to continue our altogether fascinating research.
© 2005 Domaine Méo-Camuzet