Domaine Léon Barral Faugères 2009

While I don’t mention them by name, I’m very grateful for a small handful of restaurants and wine bars in my area that have interesting wine lists, in particular by the glass.  You can generally tell when I write about their wines because the bottle photographs are different, typically featuring a glass as well.  Today is one such wine, the Domaine Léon Barral Faugères 2009.

A stereotypical by the glass wine list around here will have a local sparkler and a Champagne, an aromatic white, a Sauvignon Blanc, a Chardonnay, a Pinot Noir, a middle weight red, and a Shiraz.  Except for the Champagne, and possibly a Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc, everything will be Australian, largely from South Australia.  While I’m all for supporting local producers, it can be quite predictable, and if you eat out regularly, somewhat boring.

Fortunately, there are a few places I frequent which offer a wider range of wines by the glass, with roughly a third from South Australia and the rest being divided between Europe and other parts of Australia, with the occasional New World wines as well.  Often I find myself with a glass in front of me and I have no idea what it is or where it’s from.

That was the case with this wine, and only subsequent reading allowed me to locate the region and identify the blend.  This wine is from Faugères, an appellation located in Languedoc in the south of France.  It emerged as a wine producing region in the 19th century, and was promoted from VDQS to AOC in 1982 for red and rosé wines and in 2005 for whites.  The soil is primarily schist and the climate is Mediterranean with hot, dry summers and fairly cold wet winters.  The grapes for red and rosé wines are traditionally Carignan and Cinsault, though Grenache, Mourvèdre and Syrah are not just permitted but being promoted as replacement varieties.  White wine may be made of Rousanne, Grenache Blanc, Marsanne and Vermentino, though red wines dominate with 80% of production.

While it’s true I knew nothing about this wine when it was placed in front of me, Faugères is in fact listed as a regional entry for WSET Diploma students, so I should have known everything in the last paragraph and more.  In terms of the producer, its name would likewise have been familiar had I been a better student, because in the Faugères entry in the Oxford Companion to Wine, it is mentioned as being a top quality producer.

Domaine Leon Barral was founded in 1993 by Didier Barrel and is named after his grandfather.  He’s a champion for the biodynamic movement, and so his team working the vineyard consists of himself, horses, cows and pigs.  His youngest vineyard is Mourvèdre and Syrah with vines that are 15 to 30 years old, though his older vineyard are dominated by Carignan vines that are up to 90 years old.  He produces three AOC red blends and a white vin de pays of Terrets Blanc and Gris, Viognier and Roussanne.

Grapes are hand picked, and then fermented in concrete without the addition of sulphur or introduced yeasts.  This wine was aged a further two years in tanks without oak influence, and bottled without racking, fining or filtration.  (The other two reds do see time in barrel.)  Based on 50% Carignan, Grenache and Cinsault make up the remainder of the blend.  As this blog is no stranger to those grapes, it’s on to the tasting.

In the glass this wine is clear and bright with a dark ruby colour and quick abundant legs.  On the nose it’s clean, and developing with medium plus intensity and notes of violets, sweet spice, simple red fruit, and lavender.  On the palate it’s dry, with medium plus intensity, medium plus alcohol, medium plus fine tannins, medium acidity, medium body, and medium length.  There are notes of chocolate, simple red fruit, violets, plums, and red cherries, with some hazelnut and coffee on the finish.

This is a very good wine.  The palate has a very complex and pleasing collection of flavours.  The red fruit is not especially distinct, but all the other flavours are very evocative.  It’s nicely balanced, and even the 14% alcohol is noticeable but not hot.  A pleasant surprise and a reminder to me that I still have plenty of studying to do to be worthy of the Diploma.

Rimauresq Cru Classé Côtes de Provence 2009

The weather is holding, but only just, so today may have been the last window in which to have a glass of rosé at lunch, so that’s exactly what I did, with the Rimauresq Cru Classé Côtes de Provence 2009.

While never attracting the attention or high prices of some of France’s more prestigious regions, the wines of Provence are well worth exploring.  The region itself in the south of France is made of up eight major AOCs, with today’s, Côtes de Provence, being the largest.  The area has been home to vines at least since it was colonized by the Greeks, and possibly further back still.

The climate is Mediterranean, obviously influenced by the namesake to the south, with temperate winters and warm to hot summers with little rain during the growing season.  The mistral, perhaps better known for its influence on the Rhone, also comes into play in Provence, providing cooling relief in hot summers and allowing rain to dry quickly, precluding some rot and disease pressure.

Soils in Côtes de Provence can vary considerably, as the region is both discontinuous, and covers a large area.  There are patches under the AOC just north  and east of Marseille, a patch just north of Nice, an island or two, but the bulk of the appellation is between Toulon and Cannes from the coast though some 30 km inland.  Broadly, schist and quarts are more commonly found near the sea, with clay and sandstone being more typical inland.

In terms of grapes, there are several sources that state at least 13 varieties are permitted within Côtes de Provence AOC, though I can only find 12:  Syrah, Carignan, Cinsaut, Grenache, Mourvèdre, Tibouren, Pécoui Touar (Calitor), and Barbaroux (Barbarossa) as red grapes and Ugni Blanc, Clairette, Rolle (Vermentino), and Sémillon as whites.  Cabernet Sauvignon is grown in the region, though I can’t determine if it is within the AOC or as a vin de pays.  As elsewhere, there are efforts to replace Carignan vines with more nobles varieties such as Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon.

In terms of wines of Côtes de Provence AOC, reds and white are certainly produced, but the rosés are the lion’s share.  In reds and rosés, Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault, Mourvèdre and Tibouren must make up 70% of the blend.  While much of the local winemaking can be described as traditional, there have been inroads of more modern techniquest such as temperature controlled fermentation and experiments with rosés and oak.

This wine in particular is a blend of roughly similar parts Tibouren, Grenache and Cinsault, though in other vintages it has also included a small amount of Syrah.  Something of a Provençal icon, Tibouren is worth covering.  Jancis Robinson describes the contribution it makes to the rosés or Provence as the “scent of the garrigue” which left me scratching my head and consulting Wikipedia.  Garrigue is in fact a term used for a type of terrain that I would describe as characterized by shrubs and low bushes, and such land in Provence is made up of lavender, sage, rosemary, thyme, and juniper, as well as some a few plants that don’t make it into the spice rack.  So I’m guessing it’s something akin to “forest floor” but you need to replace “forest” with “shrubland”.

While Tibouren is synonymous with Provence, it is not very widely planted, with only 450 HA under vine in the 20,000 HA total area.  The grapes themselves are thin skinned and ripen early in direct sunlight, early ripening.  The high quality of the wine they can produce is offset by the difficulty is poses in the vineyard.  Highly susceptible coulure, or poor fruit set, which is compounded by the mistral, yields can vary greatly vintage to vintage.  As a result, it is largely cultivated only by producers of high quality wines, and often bottled as a varietal.

Rimauresq is a Cru Classé producer based midway between Nice and Marseille, and it takes its name from the Real Mauresque, a river running through its vineyards.  The Cru Classé is a designation based on a selection made in 1947 and after some years of researching the candidates, 23 domains were awarded the classification in 1955 (100 years after Bordeaux’s more famous classification).  Its vines are at an altitude of between 140 and 190 meters and are on a north facing slope, which exposes them to mistral, but provides shade and therefore a longer ripening period.  Their soil has both the quartz and sandstone qualities that place them roughly in the middle of the appellation.  They grow Syrah, Grenache, Cabernet Sauvignon and Carignan for their red wines, Rolle (Vermentino) and Ugni Blanc for their whites, and Cincault, Mourvèdre and TIbouren for their rosés.

This wine was made using hand picked fruit (whole bunches) with several hours of skin contact in cold maceration, and then cold stabalized for two to three weeks prior to fermentation.  Post-fermentation, it was left on lees and underwent regular batonage.  It did not undergo malolactic fermentation, nor see any oak.

In the glass, this wine was a lovely pale salmon colour.  On the nose were elements of peach and apricot, sour strawberries.  The palate was dry, with marked acidity, and notes of vanilla, white pepper, cream, and sandalwood.  It had a good length clean finish.

This was a very nice wine, though I admit, I’m letting the side down a bit with this tasting note.  It was a by the glass wine at the start of a lovely meal, and I didn’t initially intend to write it up until I realized how much I liked it.  I’ll have to go back and have another glass (or share a bottle) to update this note.  For now though, if there is any sunshine in your part of the world, this wine is well worth a taste.

Chateau Musar Red 2002

Chateau Musar embodies many things that I love in a wine/producer.  First, it’s interesting and unusual.  Second, it’s excellent.  Third, it has class.  Join me for a bottle and I’ll tell you what I mean on all three counts.

The wine today is the Chateau Musar Red 2002.  If you only know one thing about Chateau Musar, it will be that it is Lebanese.  If you don’t know the wine, I highly recommend you stop reading right now, find a bottle, and give it a try.  It’s neither an Old World wine nor a New, and it’s not trying to be either.  It’s Chateau Musar, which is weird, quirky, and above all, unique.

Chateau Musar is a family run producer based in Ghazir, 15 miles north of Beirut.  Founded by Gaston Hochar in 1930, it has now passed to his two sons:  Serge who is the winemaker and Ronald who manages the business.  Based out of an 18th century castle, their grapes are from the Bekaa Valley some 25 miles east of Beirut.  In the same way that vignerons talk about vines producing better wine if they’re stressed or planted in soil that forces them to drive their roots deep, I think the wine trade as a whole has a sense of reverence regarding Chateau Musar’s production.  Lebanon, particularly in the vicinity of Beirut, is not the most accommodating area in which to grow grapes or produce wine.  The distance between winery and vineyard is not insurmountable, though the local transport infrastructure is only a minor concern when compared to the regional conflicts that spring up.  However, only two vintages have been cancelled due to wars, though a third was declassified as not up to standard.

The Bekaa Valley, heart of Lebanese wine production, was historically known as a breadbasket when the region was under Roman rule, and remains the most important agricultural region in Lebanon.  It features a Mediterranean climate, with wet cold (and sometimes snowy) winters, with warm, dry summers.  The soil has a limestone base, covered in gravel and rich in iron, and the average altitude of vines is 1000m.

Lebanon does not get much international attention as a wine region, and when it does, it’s almost always in the context of someone writing about Chateau Musar.  However, winemaking in the region has been dated to the Bronze Age, and there are contemporary wineries that pre-date Chateau Musar, including Chateau Ksara, founded in 1857 by French Jesuit priests and Chateau Nakad founded in 1923.

The region as a whole has a strong connection with France, and Chateau Musar is no exception.  Gaston Hochar spent time in Bordeaux prior to planting his first vineyard in Lebanon, and befriended Major Ronald Barton (of Château Langoa-Barton – a Saint-Julien Third Growth) while he was stationed in Lebanon during World War II.  Serge did his winemaking studies at the University of Oenology in Bordeaux.

One could be forgiven for thinking that such influences would result in yet another Bordeaux-style red wine.  And while this wine is a blend of which Cabernet Sauvignon is often a major component, this is not a Bourdeaux blend in recipe or in spirit.  Carignan and Cinsault, grapes found in France but much more commonly in Languedoc-Roussillon than in Bordeaux, are the other major components.

The grapes are hand-picked, fermented with ambient yeast in concrete, and then stored in inert wooden vats for a year before spending a year in French oak, and then further years in vats.  Very little sulphur is used, and the wines are neither fined nor filtered.

A blend of grapes not historically found together in France, handled in a slightly unusual way – that really doesn’t do justice to the style of Chateau Musar Red.  The quality most commonly associated with it is one of volatile acidity.  This can give the wine an acetone or nail varnish remover aroma, which is not considered a good thing by everyone who encounters it.  In some other wines, or in high concentration, it is generally considered a fault.  Like brettanomyces, some people see it as a sign of sloppy winemaking, while others enjoy the complexity it lends in small amounts.  I’m not enough of an expert to know if it’s microbial instability in the form of acetic acid bacteria due to oxygenation, a reflection of their specific terroir, or if it’s something else entirely.  What is clear though is that it is part of the house style, not a fault.  It’s absolutely not to everyone’s taste, but it the Chateau Musar style and they remain true to it.

They also make a number of other wines, with a white and a rosé in their Chateau Musar line, a single vineyard red under the Hochar Père et Fils brand, and a series of red, white and rosé wines from younger vines released in a fruitier, drink-now style under the Musar Jeune brand.

This wine threw very little deposit despite being ten years old, unfined and unfiltered, in addition to having been stood up for three days.  However, out of those ten years, less than seven were spent in bottle.  The colour was medium garnet, with a particularly rich colour.  Their notes call it blood red, which I would not dispute.  The nose was clean with ripe fruit – cherries and plums – as well as fresh tobacco and sweet spice.  It had a medium plus intensity and was still developing.  The palate had sharp acidity, with tart cranberries being the dominant fruit.  The tannins were velvety and soft but abundant.  Plums, cherries, coffee, and chocolate were present in the very full flavour profile.  The alcohol provided palate weight, but was only a supporting character.  The length was fairly long, with chocolate on the finish.

This is an excellent wine, and I enjoyed it to the last drop.  There was something different about it that I don’t think I can quite capture, but to my nose and palate that just made it more interesting.

Finally a word about why I think Chateau Musar is a class act.  In 1984, Decanter Magazine in London nominated Serge Hochar as their first “Man of the Year” for his work at producing quality wines despite the civil war that raged through Lebanon.  Every year since, Chateau Musar has bought ad space in the annual “Man of the Year” issue congratulating each subsequent winner.

Pin in map is their office address in Beirut, as I couldn’t find the ’Mzar’ castle in Ghazir.