Oaked Sauvignon Blanc, Part 2
Continuing on from Oaked Sauvignon Blanc Part 1, I want now to reflect on what I learnt at this tasting. Having sourced all the wines from the Loire Valley, you might think I would already know them well, but that’s not the case. This tasting was definitely an eye-opener for me.
Although I have tasted older Sancerre before – some vintages as old as 20 years – it has sometimes seemed a little hit and miss. I find older Muscadet the same, by the way. My experiences with them has taught me that both wines can age well (I acknowledge this goes against the grain of accepted wisdom, but happily stand by my assertion – because the accepted wisdom is hogwash), but some older wines I have tasted clearly haven’t done so well. The wines that turned my opinion around and gave me the confidence to participate in this event are those of Bertrand Minchin, particularly his Cuvée Honorine. Tasting this in its youth, I have always wondered about the purpose of the oak (and I thought the same when tasting other oaked Sauvignons). Why? But tasting the wines at 8-10 years of age I suddenly realised just how well they age. The oak seems to change the potential of the wine in this regard. These aren’t wines to be drunk young, as we would most Sauvignons. These are wines for the cellar.
So I went ahead, and the eight domaines (see my previous post for their identities) sent vintages that ranged from 5 to 13 years old (i.e., 2010 back to 2002). I should point out that Henri Bourgeois graciously offered a range of vintages back to 1989, but I decided we should stick with 2002. But how would these older wines show? Would the oak integrate? Would the wines be tired? Would the lesser vintages (e.g. 2008) be too green? Old, tired, green but oaky wines could be a disaster. I was nervous. On the day, however, I was delighted, as soon as it became clear that the wines had aged beautifully. Sure, some were stronger than others, but on the whole they were fresh and vibrant, as a group of wines a wonderful showing. Generalising, they seemed to have greater focus than I expected, with defined evolving fruit, and the oak seemed to give structure but not influence the flavour once integrated. Even the younger wines (all from 2012) showed more harmony and integration than I expected.
By contrast, several of the wines from Bordeaux seemed quite tired, certainly oxidised in the case of one or two, the rest too young to perhaps make any definitive statement on aging. I expected these wines to sing with absolute confidence (after all, Bordeaux is for aging, isn’t it?) but on the day it wasn’t so. Some seemed a little flat by comparison. The younger vintages were, it has to be said, quite classic and defined though, and delicious. It was the older wines that let the side down here.
And so the tasting taught me three things (or at the very least it prompted me to ask three questions of myself). First, the ability of Loire Valley Sauvignon to age is surely under-rated. Yes, you have to know the domaine and the cuvée to go to, but the wines – oak-fermented and oak-aged – are out there. Denying it seems, to me, to be living in the past, inside the pages of a three-decade-old wine guide trotting out the ‘drink youngest available’ mantra. Second, Bordeaux Sauvignon-Semillon blends are perhaps (speaking of dry, non-botrytised wines) over-rated in their ability to age. Sure, we all know Haut-Brion and La Mission Haut-Brion do well with age, but experience with some wines from my own cellar suggests that this success cannot necessarily be extrapolated to other wines. It’s probably a little like my Loire Valley conclusion – you have to know which wines to go to.
And the third thing I learnt? I was surprised how grateful I felt when people came up and said ‘hello’ on the day. It seemed to justify the whole experience and more particularly my involvement in it, and regardless of whether tasters liked the wines or not (because we all have our own tastes and preferences), it made the time and effort I put into sourcing the Loire wines, and the generosity the domaines had shown in sending them over, all worthwhile. I learnt that this is something I should remember next time I attend a tasting arranged and hosted by somebody else.
I guess what really matters, though, are the wines and how the tasters viewed them. I will publish some thoughts next week, for subscribers, and I look forward to seeing how other tasters found the wines when they publish their reports.