The Medoc 'first growths'

Chateau Latour, Wednesday 13 June 2012. Our first drive up the Medoc north of our accommodation in Margaux and we were bug eyed all the way! The narrow, windey D2 highway headed through what was more like the suburbs of Bordeaux city rather than wine country. Plenty of traffic, housing and domestic gardens both sides of the road, interspersed with light forests and a field here and there. Occasional vineyards and some tantalising names flashed by - the turn off to Chateaux Cantemerle, La Lagune and other Haut Medoc vineyards at roadside along with D'Issan and other Margaux names. Then the road dropped into a modest dip with a waterway, a Jalle, at it's foot and climbed into a sea of vines in both directions - the vinous commune of St Julien! Now the vineyards were unbroken except for the village itself, with chateaux at regular intervals and to our right the spire of the local church standing tall. Then a sight I recognized came into view - the curving dip in the road that signaled the end of St Julien and the beginning of Pauillac. Past the last St Julien vineyard Leoville las Cas with its limestone walls, then we swept up into Pauillac past the welcoming committee of the two Pichon estates on either side of the road. A flurry of camera shots aimed at almost certainly the two most beautiful Chateau buildings in the region, before we turned right into the gravel driveway of Chateau Latour. We were barred by a steel gate. Our driver disembarked, leant into and talked at an intercom. Then we were away again for a few hundred metres, to the stubby tower which marks Ch Latour. A low profile, unremarkable winery sat behind it with a grander, several story mansion set in old trees and gardens nearby. Elsewhere rows of green vines flowed in all directions with a streak of silvery water, the Gironde estuary, about a kilometre away. Our guide for the visit, a Chinese lass to our surprise walked towards us. (Less of a surprise the longer we spent in Bordeaux). We walked back down the vine lined driveway and around a vineyard plot, with it's stony soils and old, low pruned vines. A number of horses were working the vineyard in the distance, tilling the soil in the narrow passages between the vines. Heavily built horses like a smaller breed of draft horse. A simple plough followed, the driver holding the plough handles and walking on foot, guiding and urging the horse in its work. 'Light and non compacting of the soil' we were told, in what was the first of much comment from all the first growth estates on their establishment of biodynamic practices and a return to non mechanical and non chemical based viticulture. Even the moon seemed to feature, with the belief that sap flowed differently during different lunar phases, which I found odd. Still, nothing like a bit of irrationality to lend some charm. It was straight to business with the tasting room being next. We were delighted to be ushered into a small room overlooking the vineyard where the blends are assembled by the Chateaux panel of tasters. We stood and sipped through a 2009 Pauillac, 2006 Fort de Latour and then the 2004 Grand Vin, Chateau Latour itself. I couldnt quite believe where I was. My eyes flicked around the room, out the windows to the expanses of vines, back to our various expressions as we tried the wines and I thought 'remember this moment.' As if we wouldnt! The three wines represent the estates three price, quality and longevity tiers. The Pauillac is a drink now fruit driven expression, approachable on release and over 2 -5 years, keeping maybe a few more. The Fort is designed for short term cellaring and at its best at 8 + years we were told. The grand vin is a 'Vin de Garde' or what we would call a cellaring wine, intended to age in the bottle into something very different from its initial state, and made accordingly. 'Fifteen years' we were told is the intended period of time for that bottle maturation to occur. Tasting them the Pauillac was a very nice Bordeaux style, the Fort had developed a bouquet and came across best, while the grand vin was enjoyable but still dense and closed. All of them had the Latour stamp of firm, strong, pure flavours. We exited the tasting room heading for the winery and cellars, but not before a close encounter with a horse finishing its row beside us and turning into the next row heading back down the slope. Below we could see the waters of the Gironde, accounting we were told for the moderation of temperature the vineyard experiences and the deep gravel deposits of the elevated rise. The horse in question decided to delay working the next row of vines and stood still for a minute despite contrary instructions; perhaps an audience was of more interest? The driver was unimpressed with the display of resistance but constrained in the language and shouting he might otherwise apply. Dark looks instead! The cellars themselves included pristine stainless steel fermentation tanks, with a flashing space age computerised panel for temperature control and other monitoring. Then down the steps to where rows of barrels almost vanished into the distance, along dimly lit halls piercingly sweet with the heady smell of fresh oak and wine. The year one barrel rooms were brighter with their fresh new oak, while other rooms held the red stained barrels of year two wines. Countless barrels of kings treasure it seemed, slumbering in oblivion to the world above. Finally we moved to a dispatch area and watched a bottling run underway. The bottles were being mechanically filled, corked and capsuled, then a considerable labour contingent handled each bottle, hand applying the labels, wrapping each bottle in tissue, then packing, boxing and stacking them in transportable pallets. Every stage was done slowly and with great care and inspection of the results. For example the labels were applied using guides that exactly measured position and required an exact match with the capsule motif, the tissue wrapper was lined up perfectly over the motif on the bottle label and folded most precisely, then they were packed in their 6 bottle wooden cases, labels perfectly aligned, upwards, as carefully and exactly as a box of Cuban cigars. The care being taken and the slow, quiet concentration of the team impressed us greatly. There is obviously no way anyone lucky enough to be opening a box of Latour is going to experience anything less than their flawless presentation. The whole chateau operation impressed us further with its lack of flourishes. There was no signage or any attempt to show itself off, staff were intently busy and it seemed nothing more than a working estate. The place did however ooze confidence that its wine was one of the worlds greats and would speak for itself. Back outside for a last look at the rolling slopes of the vines, the nearby Gironde, the Chateau buildings and circular tower and we were away. Chateau Lafite Rothschild, Wednesday 13 June 2012. In the same afternoon, with a Pauillac lunch-to-end-all-lunches onboard we drove north to Chateau Lafite Rothschild, often thought of as the non identical twin of Latour with each bringing the others qualities into perspective. The D2 was in good form, driving past a succession of great Pauillac names noted by nothing more than a simple roadsign, with nothing separating the vines from the road or even the properties themselves except the occasional limestone wall. The land swelled pleasantly in broad green undultions not unlike the champagne region although on a lesser scale. Lafite itself came into view in the middle distance, a collection of buildings on the flank of a rising slope of vines. No locked gate on the driveway this time until we got to the building compound, where a serious wrought iron fence and gateway separated the administration block from the grand residence of the Chateau itself. Privacy for the residents is clearly paramount. A thick accented Frenchmen in his late twenties came out to greet us but not before some waiting outside an untended reception. For a distraction we had a lineup of large black Mercedes parked nearby, with their black suited drivers chatting amongst themselves. The same crowd that were at lunch we realized. Inside we studied maps of Lafite ('The Hill') and a profile of their soil displayed in a long glass case. Layers of interspersed free draining gravels and silts. There was no vineyard walk this time as we dived into the cellars, downstairs into magnificent hallways and barrel rooms supported by massive arches, their rows of stacked winefilled barrels with Lafite Rothschild branded on their ends. Leaving the first year barrel rooms we wound through corridors past gated alcoves with dusty stocks of very old wines in the bottle, many unlikely to ever see the light of day but part of the long history of the estate. What happened next was to be a highlight of the whole French experience. I had not expected it to even be mentioned, let alone that we would turn a corner and walk into their famed underground circular second year barrel room, an enormous space like a Greek amphitheatre, high arched ceilings dimly but dramatically lit, barrels stacked in curving rows. Cool and silent like all these cellars, but with special acoustics as you could imagine - the smallest sound seem to travel. I did a 'pop' with my mouth to illustrate the point, which got a laugh which even further illustrated the point! Our host had another treat in store, a table set in the circular barrel room with tasters, spittoon (not necessary) and bottles of Lafite Rothschild 2001. Candles to light the scene - what else! He stooped and concentrated, to pour the wines in the dim light. Well we sipped and marveled, wandered the expanse of the circular cellar and contemplated the wine, talking in whispers. The wine was elegant, lithe and so graceful,with a sweet fragrant core. What a treat. We exited the circular cellar through large doorways and up a sloping vehicle ramp, into the very bright daylight. Nearby a mobile bottling plant was active, parked against a building, rattling away and busy with workmen. We were in no hurry to leave, enjoying the heat and the sight of the rows of vines heading to the crest of the hill that gave the Chateau its name. A vineyard sight that maybe could have been any number of places, except that it wasn't. Some photos and we were away. Chateau Mouton Rothschild, Thursday 14th June 2012. After a morning visit to the wonderful Chateau Pontet Canet, we pushed on into the northern part of Pauillac, now becoming somewhat familar after several passes through the area. I kept blatting with the camera on each pass, hoping for better light and the best shots possible of the many sights on the way. Mouton R is an easy walk from Lafite, both vineyards being where the undulating terrian stands higher than its surrounds and affords a depth of well drained alluvial gravels. We drove down Moutons driveway, past park like gardens and trees and into their carpark. The placed lacked any very obvious entry and there were buildings all around, but the office reception appeared in front of us and there we met our host. This visit was more contained than any of the others as the cellars and winemaking areas were being redeveloped, so 'come back again in a couple of years' it was suggested. OK will do! In the meantime we walked outdoors to look over at the gated chateau itself and the other buildings of the estate, including their arts museum. MR has a unique level of interest in the arts and they almost seemed to me to be as much an arts patron as a wine producer? I've always had that uncomplimentary opinion although that view was rocked somewhat when tasting the fabulous 1982 Mouton Rothschild earlier this year. We moved back inside for a video and talk, where we heard about the key figure in MR's recent rise to fame, being the late Baron Phillip Rothschild and now his daughter Phillippe. Baron Phillip drove the estate to its current heights over a 50 year period, interrupted by his flight from the Nazis in WW2 when like other notable properties it was commissioned by the invading armed forces and the occupants preferably disposed off. How they survived and had the fortitude to pick it up again, aspire to such creative achievements and proceed with such confidence is quite a story, a story I now think is told in their wine. We proceeded to their tasting room and the 2010 grand vin, from the barrel as it was just in the process of being bottled, was poured. Forget seeing the cellars we thought and the wine museum can wait for another day; we stopped caring about anything else as we tried this magnificent wine. Like drinking black velvet, with a fathomless saturated nose, then an exceptional density of flavour and elegance of texture, gliding effortlessly over the palate. We walked back out into the hot sun and wandered the local streets to our rendevous point with the others. I thought about that wine, the whole way. Chateau Margaux, Friday 15th June 2012. A day later, moderately early in the morning, we drove north from our hotel in Pessac Leognan around the outskirts of Bordeaux and into the commune of Margaux, via a more inland road. Margaux is greater in extent than other Medoc appellations with vineyards scattered and more separated by forested areas. We were on edge - the traffic around Bordeux had been heavy and the thought of being late was a worrying possibility. However it never happened and suddenly we were there, swinging into a long driveway heavily lined with old Plane trees. The drive headed straight for the Chateau which loomed ever larger until we were there, viewing it through high, wrought iron gates. Driving down an absolutely straight, lengthy avenue of old trees towards an undeniably magnificent building said it all in terms of the haughty exclusivity of the estate. We duly posed in front of the Chateau gates, to record the moment! The Chateau itself is the home of the owners so no way is that going to be on offer, but the estate winery and it's many old buildings are separate and there we headed. We knew the place had a long and at times turbulent history, including the French revolution cleaning out the aristocracy and the chateau's occupation by Nazi forces. Margaux seemed to carry all these memories, with its old but of course perfectly maintained buildings, walled gardens, park like trees and green rural setting. Our host, a french lass came out to greet us and chatted knowledgeably about the estate as we walked through their extensive facilities and storage halls, the barrels stamped this time with Chateau Margaux. The place felt just luxurious in its absolute adherence to its beautiful old buildings and facilities, its scale and spaceousness, not to mention that every step you knew you were walking through one of the great winemaking locations on the planet. In the second year barrel room workmen were racking barrels, manually draining the contents of one barrel into another leaving a small amount behind for the purpose of separating the wine from its sediments. They were burning sulphur to fumigate the washed barrels, with SO2. Quite a rank smell, and while we felt compelled and fascinated to stay and watch the process in this hazy, fumey barrel room, it involved much coughing like old sheep probably to the amusement of the staff. Next we saw Margauxs' barrel making facilities, basically an old room like a large stable with an open fire at one end housing the charcoal burning facility to toast the barrel interiors, a selection of non electric hand tools and several barrels in the making with their staves splayed out like thin petalled opening flowers. The sweet aroma of freshly cut oak. The chateau makes all it's own barrels which are considered almost as critical to the wine as are the grapes. No effort is spared in sourcing and controlling the timber, it preparation, curing, and assembling into barrels. We had met this elsewhere in France, this obsession with getting the exact barrels required as part of the character of a specific wine, not to mention the great expense involved and the variation in that expense depending on the what is involved. There is no doubting it's contribution to the wine or the economic consideration of a wineries ability to to afford it. Well Margaux can afford the most perfect expression of the art of barrel making and subsequent wine maturation. Our host also had a tasting for us and asked - 'upstairs in reception or in one of the barrel rooms?' No contest - any excuse to spend a few more minutes in a Chateau Margaux barrel room. Wines and glasses appeared, probably the spittoon but I didn't look, as we tried their second wine (Pavilion rouge) and then the grand vin, both 2008. So early days for both wines, but easier to taste than some other winery samples we had experienced pulled out of the barrel, pre bottling. Margaux is reputed for its delicacy and the haunting perfume that develops in the bottle. Even young the grand vin had elegance and some of its sweet floral aromas, the blackcurrent leaf and fruit aromas of cabernet grapes and maybe even a minty note. But beautiful, an experience to taste and happily I have some at home to drink one day in its prime! We left the winery buildings and loitered around the nearest vines with their tilled soils and wildflower plot borders. Europes wildflowers we realized, are NZ's weeds! So many we recognise. Plenty of glances towards the Chateau and then we were away, back down the long driveway and out into the real world, if you can call the Medoc that!