A Sense of Place - Chablis

Besides Bandol, perhaps the region I most anticipated visiting this summer when traveling with the David Bowler European Wine Bus Tour was Chablis.  We had traveled through Rioja, Provence, the Rhone Valley, Beaujolais, the Cote d’Or and finished in Champagne and Paris.  But no region lived up to what I had imagined through my studies more than Chablis.

We met our Chablis producer, Patrick Piuze at his winery (if you can call it that – more like a shed with a basement on a side street in downtown Chablis).  After the usual tour of the ‘facility’ (at this point, ten days into the trip, If I saw another stack of used oak barrels I was going to head back to the bus for a nap), we took our bus as far as the winding roads in the vineyard would allow, then we finished the trip to the top of the Grand Cru vineyards by foot.

Though this is a piece on the place, not the producer, it’s worth communicating how Patrick introduced himself to those in the company who did not know him.  To understand Patrick is to understand his path to winemaking.  In his own words, “school didn’t like me and I didn’t like school.”  After deciding to not follow through on college, Patrick bounced around from learning the basics of winemaking while surfing in Australia to working in a wine shop in Montreal to learning the craft of making world class Chablis from the best in the region – Brocard, Verget and Leflaive (the good Leflaive).  Falling in love with the region and the vineyards, Patrick’s first vintage was 2008 and since his wines have landed on our shores, he has received critical acclaim from more than a handful of the most respected wine writers in the business.  And if you ever get a chance to meet him, leave all pretense at the door.  And if you are near an ocean, be ready to catch a wave or two and have at least a couple of beers.
 
As Patrick told us, roughly 95% of the harvesting done in Chablis is performed by machine.  You wouldn’t think it standing at the top of the Grand Cru Vineyard Les Clos as, at some points, the angle of the vineyard is perilously steep.  Though we aren’t talking double black diamond or Mosel steep, I wouldn’t want to lose my footing while taking in the view at Les Clos.  And the view was everything I imagined it would be.  Unfortunately, my camera needed to be charged and I didn’t capture any shots of the area, but the views were magical – you could see clear across the vineyards of Chablis with the town of Chablis and Courgis situated quietly in the background.  The vineyards were a sea of green and as dusk quickly approached.  The view of the waning sun splashing on the Premier Cru vineyards of Montmains, Vaillons and Vosgros was second only to the sun setting over the hills of Charnay at Eric Texier’s house a few nights earlier.

Like the Cote d’Or, Chablis has a three tier classification system – village, Premier Cru and Grand Cru wines.  In addition, they have another AOC called Petit Chablis which is not an indication of the size of the grape, but pockets of vineyard area within the region that are not as highly regarded as more premium village Chablis vineyards.  And like their more famous neighbors to the south, the best vineyards are located on the best slopes with the most suitable soil types.

The two primary soil types in Chablis are Kimmeridgian and Portlandian. The best vineyards are planted on the former, with the lesser Petit Chablis planted on the latter.  Kimmeridgian soil, also found in some of the best Sauvignon Blanc producing vineyards such as Pouilly-Fume in the Loire Valley and also within the southern Champagne region of the Aube, is a limestone-clay mixture that is rich in fossilized oyster shells.  Generally, grapes grown on Kimmeridgian soils have more depth and structure than those raised on Portlandian.  And soil is more attached to the history and classification of Chablis than one might think.  According to James Wilson, author of Terroir, winemakers in the Yonne have been arguing over what constitutes ‘real Chablis’ since the early 20^th Century.  Though today the best vineyards have been classified (mostly) on the vineyards rooted in the superior Kimmeridgian soils, winemakers  and bureaucrats have been wrangling over an official classification of the area for decades – including some claiming that the (now) obscure Sacy grape was the best match for the limestone rich soils.  Today, consumers will recognize Petit Chablis on the shelves and as discussed before, this classification is not based on grape, rather is an indication that these wines are made from Chardonnay grown on Portlandian – in many of the winemaker’s opinions, an inferior soil type.

Climatically, Chablis has more in common with Champagne than Burgundy.  The climate is semi-continental with dry and warm summers.  When we there at the end of June, the sun was warm, but not incredibly hot – warmer than San Diego but not the dog days of a Jersey summer.  It’s the length of the cold winter temperatures that concerns winemakers and often leads to crop loss as frost is a major hazard that can devastate crops.  Overnight frost can affect emerging vine shoots and flowering through May.  With this in mind, the locals have combated frost with two fairly primitive, but effective methods.  First, they light smudge pots, or heaters, in the vineyards during potential onset of frost and this warms the vineyard area to a point where frost does not affect the vines.  Others spray the vineyards with water and as frost hits, the grapes are actually warmer when frosted over with a light sheet of ice.  The latter method is called aspersion and is fairly effective, except when windy conditions prevail.  Though there are still hiccups when fighting the elements, today winemakers in Chablis do not face losing an entire vintage due to an extended winter.

We would be unable to understand the true sense of place of Chablis if we based it’s terroir on soil and climate alone.  Winemaking plays an integral role in shaping the personality of Chardonnay from the Yonne.  And with winemaking the debate over the ‘correct’ style of Chablis heats up.  Winemakers, critics and consumers are split as to the issue of oak treatment in Chablis.  Some believe that in order to preserve the minerality and typicity of Chardonnay from Chablis, only stainless steel should be used during the winemaking process.  Others believe in using only old oak barrels which adds an oxidative note to the wines while others have introduced flavors from new oak treatment to their wines.  Just like the natural wine movement, intelligent discussion over the use of oak in Chablis is often supplanted by bitter dogmatic disputes.  However, if the consumer, critics and blogger can get passed arguing over who is ‘right’ in the debate, delicious offerings from Chablis can be found at every level of oak use.  For me personally, I prefer as little oak flavors as possible in my Chablis, but I do enjoy hints of oxidation in the final wine so long as the nervy, tense and bright earthy flavors still throw through in the wine.  As for the winemakers, Jancis Robinson breaks down different camps in her Oxford Companion to Wine.  Look for offerings from Brocard if you prefer the stainless approach.  Dauvissat and Raveneau* use old oak while William Fevre and Domaine Laroche used oak for to impart a bit of wood flavor to their wines.

No matter to which camp your taste buds belong, the wines of Chablis are often overlooked by mainstream consumers because of the more muscular and recognizable wines from the Cotes de Beaune.  And though this keeps the prices down for me and other Chablis afficianados, it’s a region that is unjustly overlooked when discussing white Burgundy.  Friends and colleagues of mine often tell me (and you) that the best Chablis is a great value, but the best wines are not at the level of the great Premier Crus in Meursault or the Grand Crus of Puligny and Chassagne.  Hogwash, I say.  The wines, due to climate, soil, winemaking technique and tradition are completely different than those from their neighbors in the Cote d’Or.  Though Chardonnay is used in both regions, the comparison should end there.  However, as demand is resurging for the best whites from the Cote de Beaune, grab a Chablis from a Premier Cru or Grand Cru vineyard – this is Chardonnay that will open your eyes and your senses.

*Though this is an article about place, not necessarily about winemakers, the wines from Francois Raveneau deserve a bit more attention.  Though Francois is no longer with us, his sons are working the estate and carrying on a tradition of winemaking that in my opinion, is second to none in the region.  The wines are tight, concentrated and chock full of fruit and tension when first bottled.  Over time, they unfold gracefully and they are the type of wine captures not only a specific sense of place, but also the imagination. Though they come in at a steep price tag, they are worth every penny.