Au château Canon La Gaffelière, une débauche de très grands vins

A dinner with friends at Château Canon La Gaffelière

When the Bordelais receive guests, they don’t go halfway! My friend, the American collector Steve, has come to France with his son Wesley for a series of visits with winemakers. The first week is Burgundian, the second slated for Bordeaux, and the finishing touch will be the dinner at which we will share some of our choice bottles. Steve has come through London, where he keeps part of his wine collection, and I meet him at the Eurostar. The Gare du Nord is a colorful melting pot that pointedly shows that the language of Voltaire is not the vernacular. Waiting for the train, one hears repetitive messages announcing that due to the sabotage of overhead lines, the line from Paris to Compiègne is not running. The tone of the woman drumming this message into one’s ears removes any desire to doze off. Like a drug runner – at least, I imagine – I take charge of Steve’s wines for our future dinner and accompany my two friends to the Gare de Lyon, as they are heading directly for Burgundian climes.

One week later, I join my friends in Bordeaux for a dinner organized by Count Stephan von Neipperg, owner of Canon La Gaffelière. The plan was for me to stay at the home of Olivier Bernard, owner of Domaine de Chevalier, but it seems a better idea to stay at the Hostellerie de Plaisance in Saint-Emilion. I will reassure my faithful readers that I conscientiously avoided the watering-can shower head in my shower in favor of a minuscule one with a directable stream. And who should I see, just as I am leaving for dinner? Bernard Antony, the famous cheesemonger, who has come to eat here with someone who is introduced to me as the emperor of ham. I will see them the next day for a tasting of 2008 wines to be held at the Domaine de Chevalier.

I had brought and opened my bottle at 4pm at Stephan von Neipperg’s home, and had a nice conversation in the kitchen with his charming wife while opening it. The group dining this evening at Château Canon La Gaffelière is comprised of Stephan and his wife Sigweis, Olivier Bernard, Robert Peugeot and Xavier Planty, all members of the board of directors of Château Guiraud, with Planty being the one who oversees the estate and makes the wine. Then there would be Patrick Baseden, a winemaker who makes the Montesquieu wines; Laurent Vialette, whom Stephan introduces insistently and repetitively as “the” specialist of old wines; Jeffrey Davies, an American-born Bordeaux wine merchant; and my friends Steve and Wesley. There are eleven of us, and nearly all of the participants have brought one or more wines, making for an evening of Bacchic debauchery.

The menu prepared by a caterer starts with hors d’oeuvres, then moves on to a light scallop cake with lime / rumpsteak with shallot confit and summer vegetable flan / cheeses / gratin of exotic fruit and Sauternes.

We drink the apéritif in a large, very comfortable room. The 1990 Bollinger Champagne from magnum is very pleasant to drink. It’s a bit foxy, says one of the guests, which is a sign of the first hints of maturity, which, like the first wrinkles, add a dose of charm. While we’re doing this, Stephan and Sigweis are on the phone fixing a problem one of their daughters has had; she lost her passport and was unable to take a plane out of Paris. Thirst overcomes us as we wait, and it is sated by a 1988 Krug Champagne, which is rock solid. One of the guests says that this is a Protestant’s wine, referring to its strictness. The two champagnes are mutually flattering, with the Krug dominating through its imperious structure and the Bollinger flashing its elegant charm.

We sit down at the table and start with a series of three white wines, followed shortly thereafter by a fourth, which are drunk blind, as almost all of the wines at this meal will be. I note that the winemakers present are able to pick out the grapes and climates. I quickly see how limited I am at that task, so I adopt a prudently reserved attitude when I seem to hesitate about a wine’s region. My commentaries are thus marked by great humility.

The first is a 1989 Domaine Leflaive Chevalier-Montrachet. I find it elegant in comparison to the second wine, which is uncommonly powerful, a 1992 Domaine Leflaive Bienvenue-Bâtard-Montrachet from a particularly successful year. Of course, I recognize the Leflaive style once the names of the wines have been announced. The nose on the third one is particularly subtle. It is a wine of rare quality, and I would never have thought it so young: 1985 Domaine Ramonet Montrachet; Jeffrey correctly picks out the producer. Xavier finds the fourth white slightly corked, but it’s just a trace and does not trouble our tasting of a wine of great breeding, a 1949 Château Haut-Brion blanc. That wine starts with a slight bitterness, but when it opens up, one gets the true feel of an exceptional wine. The corky taste, if it had been there, has completely disappeared.

We approach the reds with a series of three wines. The first is magical, the second is a little closed, and the third is adorable. I find it perfect. The first is a 1961 Château Canon La Gaffelière, followed by a 1959 Château Canon La Gaffelière which, when it opens, proves to be racier than the very pure but dogmatic 1961, and the third is a 1962 Château Haut-Brion, which demonstrates that that year was able to make miracles. I am won over by that wine, with its rare elegance. Laurent says it is as good as the 1961 from the same château. I don’t think so, though, because I have a memorable recollection of the latter.

There is only one dish to eat with the reds, and no one knows how many of them we’ll be drinking. Everyone makes fun of me, especially my neighbor at the table, Olivier Bernard, because I resolutely retain my plate of meat, which grows cold, so that I can pair it with the following wines. My plate is cleared away at least an hour after those of the other guests. The first wine of the second series is a 1921 Château Mouton d’Armaillac, a very interesting wine with a superb nose, though slightly drying on the palate. The second is a 1918 Domaine de Chevalier rouge of great purity, a very light-colored, pleasing wine. Olivier has never had this wine before. The third is an absolute curiosity, because the label says: Maison Jadot “Old Burgundy 1870 to 1920”. A fifty-year range of dates is not very helpful. The wine is quite sweet and very fine. I liked it, without really being able to pinpoint its date.

Now we move on to very young wines: 1999 La Mondotte Saint-Emilion from magnum, a very truffled, powerful wine, then a 2001 Clos des Truffiers Coteaux du Languedoc, which is 100% syrah; Jeffrey owns the vineyard. Then there is a wine that surprises everyone and which leads some of the guests to lament the fact that Palmer used its regular label for it, because it is a 2004 Palmer 19th Century with 15% syrah. Where is the syrah from? I don’t know. It is not unpleasant at all.

The fourth is very elegant and floral. It is a great wine that becomes even greater when we find out what it is: 1982 Penfolds Grange Hermitage. Some of the guests have already had their cheese plates cleared when my meat plate is taken away, as it was a better match, even cold, than the cheeses, which do not pair well with reds.

When I opened the 1916 Bourdy “Blanc Vieux d’Arlay” at 4pm, the lady of the house, with her acute ears, heard a slight crinkling noise. Listening more attentively, it seemed that the bottle had started a new fermentation, doubtless in part due to some residual sugar. When the wine is poured for us, it has the slight prickliness of sparkling wines, which skews the impression the wine should give. It is still possible to see this as a delicate wine, though, with ginger and pineapple nuances. It is slightly lesser than it could have been, but not too much so.

Steve has brought a delicious 1895 Tokay Vin de Massandra, which evokes mandarins and dates. It is a charming wine. We finish this incredible journey with a 1990 Château d’Yquem, which is as it should be, with the force of sugar and sweetness of its wild youth.

Xavier is the most opinionated in his commentaries, which are characterized by great precision. If one of the buttons is missing from a wine’s uniform, he runs it through with a saber. The winemakers are happy to discuss their opinions on wines from regions other than their own. Laurent is truly the expert Stephan proclaims him to be. Robert and I listen to the calculations and judgments. This empathic, passionate little group has, alas, forgotten to speak English, which has left Wesley and Steve somewhat out of the loop, though they brought splendid wines. We will doubtless make up for that with lots of banter over our dinner three days later in Paris.

Given that many of the wines are served from magnum, the quantity absorbed by each of us is great. Our heads were not clear enough to determine the winners of the evening. From what shines through my cloudy memory, I would give the following order, though I recognize how difficult it is to establish one:

1 – 1949 Château Haut-Brion blanc,

2 – 1962 Château Haut-Brion rouge,

3 – 1985 Ramonet Montrachet,

4 – 1959 Canon La Gaffelière,

5 – 1918 Domaine de Chevalier.

The two champagnes could easily slip into this classification, but it would be hard to decide where.