Drink: The great white Burgundy disaster

We agreed that it was the gravest crisis facing mankind. It has led to dashed hopes, widespread grief and a universal loss of confidence in the future. As the scientists seem powerless, the world is thrown back on superstition. If the learned have no answers, one may as well listen to old Jacques, who remembers his great uncle’s advice about coping with phylloxera.

I refer, of course, to oxidisation and white Burgundy. The 1996 was supposed to be superb and long-lasting. Friends of mine finally decided that the moment had come to begin enjoying their Chassagnes, Pulignys and Chablis grands crus. Aargh. Instead of vinous glory, harmonies of structure, subtlety and fruit — of length and depth — they were usually uncorking a surly, brown-edged liquid: weary, stale, flat — and unprofitable. Some unscrupulous coves contacted wine merchants or auctioneers, to find that such houses have not grown old without growing cunning. The ex-treasures were unsellable. The beautiful virgin had turned into the corpse of Count Dracula.

No one knows what is going wrong. There is an obvious defensive stratagem: to drink the stuff earlier. I know of one club which is listing its Criots-Bâtard-Montrachet, Blain-Gagnard, ’08. It is a magnificent wine, but I still maintain that it is not yet near its best.

With all this in mind, we tasted some whites the other evening, to general enjoyment and relief. Bernard Vallet of Pierre Bourée brought his Chassagne-Montrachet ’09. A lesser wine than the Batard (but not nearly as expensive), it was just about ready, and will surely keep. Like all Bernard’s wines, it has charm. When you drink his whites, the Pastoral Symphony is always playing in the background. To follow, he produced a red: his appropriately named Charmes-Chambertin ’05.