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Côte Chalonnaise

There are without doubt some who would consider this guide, now that it has dealt with Chablis and the great wines of the Côte d'Or, to be at an end. It is a sad fact of life that for some wine drinkers - perhaps label drinkers would be a better description - only the greatest wines, the best producers and the most sought-after vintages will do. These are the people who stuff their cellars full of grand cru bottles from the likes of Armand Rousseau, Domaine de la Romanée-Conti and Domaine Leroy. Yes, these are great bottles and yes, we are envious. But there is more to Burgundy than this finery; not just from the 'lesser' appellations, the village and generic wines, but from Burgundy's other regions too. To find these regions is simple; head south from the Côte d'Or. It is not far; after all, when standing at the centre of Chassagne-Montrachet, you are closer to Rully (about 6 miles to the south, by road), one of the principle towns of the Côte Chalonnaise, than you are to Beaune itself (which lies about 10 miles by road to the north).

To those who remain fixated on only grand cru bottles a discussion of the Côte Chalonnaise might seem about as relevant as discussing the wines of India or Japan, regions that are a world away from the Côte d'Or. But the truth is we are not a world away from that golden slope. Our first of five stop-offs on this leg of our journey is Bouzeron, which at just 5 miles from Chassagne-Montrachet is even closer than Rully. For sure the topography here does not match the grandiose slope that can be found running from Chassagne-Montrachet up to - with admittedly a few interruptions on the way - Gevrey-Chambertin, but there are many favourable sites for viticulture nevertheless. Some of these vineyards are no less eligible for consideration alongside those of the Côte d'Or than those that hide in the valleys to the west of Beaune and Nuits, such as St-Aubin and St-Romain, or the border-outposts of Marsannay or Santenay.

This diatribe is naturally backed up by some tasting experience; yes there are disappointing wines here (but what's new, this is Burgundy) but as usual choosing the producer, the vineyard and the vintage with care can yield delicious, vibrant ageworthy bottles. As with the Côte d'Or these can be red or white, led by Chardonnay and Pinot Noir respectively. The Côte Chalonnaise is much more a microcosm of Burgundy as a whole than Mâconnais, where the majority of interesting wines are white, or Beaujolais where Gamay rules. As alluded to above there are five villages of interest, four long-established names and the more recently included oddity, Bouzeron. This latter appellation is first up for consideration here.

Bouzeron

I say oddity because this appellation, which officially came into being in 1979, allows solely for wines made from Aligoté, one of the less common white varieties permissible in Burgundy which I have briefly alluded to in my introductory piece on Burgundy's History & Variety. In this it is unique, the only appellation in all France to be based on this variety alone, a Burgundian analogy to the Loire's Cour-Cheverny and Romorantin, perhaps. Although it began life as Bourgogne Aligoté de Bouzeron, today this has been simplified to just the commune name, Bouzeron.

The wines must comprise solely this variety and no other, unlike the more generic Bourgogne Aligoté which, perhaps surprisingly, may legally include up to 15% Chardonnay. Although there were initially just a few hectares of eligible vines today the appellation enjoys moderate commercial success and there are currently in excess of 100 hectares planted up, the vineyards tended by a number of very notable producers. Perhaps one of the most remarkable names is that of de Villaine; Aubert de Villaine is of course best known for his role at the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, and this Bouzeron estate - ran in conjunction with his wife Pamela - is perhaps appellation leader.

Rully

Keep heading south after Bouzeron and we come to Rully, the first I suppose of the Chalonnaise quartet proper. The name of the town is perhaps derived from Rubilium, the name of a wealthy proprietor resident here in the latter years of the Roman occupation. Today it is an appellation divided largely between still white and red wines, the latter having largely had the upper hand both in terms of area planted but also in quality. During the 19th century, however, it had a much stronger reputation for sparkling wines, an alternative to Champagne which was consumed locally but also exported widely. Today the vineyard is considerably smaller than it was during those times, as is the case for all Burgundy, a residual effect of the phylloxera epidemic of the late-19th century, but at more than 300 hectares this appellation still dwarfs that of Bouzeron.

As with the villages of the Côte d'Or there are a number of climats classified as premier cru so this information may find its way onto the label. Perhaps my favourite ever bottle from this appellation was the 1992 Premier Cru Grésigny from Henri & Paul Jacqueson (not to be confused with the Champagne house Jacquesson - the spelling is subtly different) which was consumed eight years after the vintage and which was enough to convince me, in a single taste, that it is always worth looking outside of the Côte d'Or for quality bottles.

Mercurey

The Côte Chalonnaise was once known as the Région de Mercurey, some indication of the significance of this, the second of the region's four original appellations. It is reputedly named for Mercury, not the planet itself but the Roman god (which is of course also the origin of the name of the planet), offspring of Jupiter and Maia and messenger of the gods. In contrast to Rully we are now firmly in red wine country, the plantings of Pinot Noir here in Mercurey being ten-fold those of Chardonnay. The vineyard area is much larger than what has gone before, approximately 650 hectares in all (enough to swallow up several Côte d'Or communes, never mind Rully or Bouzeron), and of this at least 100 hectares are classed as premier cru. The countryside here has rightly earned a reputation for its serene and pastoral nature, something I very much appreciated when staying in the region in 1997, and this is despite the installation of many kilometres of culverts and drainage channels following the damaging floods which afflicted the region in 1981.

Despite this my own experiences of this appellation do not throw up a huge number of enthralling tasting experiences, although those wines from Chateau de Chamirey, the Chalonnaise base for négociant Antonin Rodet, have certainly been worthwhile.

Givry

The first bottles of Givry I ever experienced were crystal clear and pure of flavour, reminiscent of green apples, freshly plucked from the tree. They were, if I recall correctly, purchased from the co-operative at Buxy on one of my adventures travelling through the region many years ago now. They were a salutatory lesson, as I have already expounded in my introduction to this piece, that it is not only the great wines of the grands crus of the Côte d'Or that have the power to please; the look and taste of that wine is etched onto my memory, for all the right reasons.

Givry is again white or red, with neither developing any great prominence in terms of quality in my experience. The reds can be robust and worthwhile, and may certainly be identifiable as Burgundy, the whites tend to be flavoursome and fun (such as that apple-tinged wine discovered in the course of my early explorations), even if both types perhaps lack the great finesse that more expensive bottles of from the Côte d'Or might convey. Despite my happy memories of that white, it is still Pinot Noir that dominates here, and of the 270-or-so hectares about 85% is planted to this red variety. As with Rully and Mercurey there are a considerable number of classified premiers crus, and a small number of worthwhile producers turning out very good wines indeed. The value of the premier cru epithet is somewhat limited here (indeed this is true of much of the Côte Chalonnaise) - such grand titles account for more than 40% of the Givry vineyard.

Montagny

Was Montagny the first ever Burgundian appellation - excluding Beaujolais for a moment, a decision some would unfairly say should be made permanent - that I tasted? Possibly. I certainly have some recollection of a bottle of Montagny from my early days exploring wine, no doubt seduced by the promise of a premier cru experience, this designation being proudly declared on the label. I soon learnt my lesson; Montagny premier cru is one of those most aberrant of misnomers, like Bordeaux Supérieur, nomenclature that clangs with grandeur but in fact relates to little more than alcoholic strength. My reading taught me that any wine from this appellation with more than 11.5% to its credit qualified for the title, and the wine I had turned out to be rather dull despite reaching even that rather lowly-slung hurdle.

A first glance at the appellation regulations as I researched this guide suggested that this apparent wrong had since been righted, but more detailed consideration revealed that this was not the case. Although these regulations state that premier cru status for Montagny is site-related, just as it is for Givry, Rully and Mercurey, in truth these premier cru sites account for the majority of the appellation, and (as is common in all appellation regulations) they must still attain a minimum alcoholic strength. So in effect almost any wine with more than 11.5% from the commune can be premier cru, as I discovered with that early bottle, unless - I suppose - it is unfortunate enough to originate from one of the few unclassified lieux-dits.

All told there are more than 300 hectares of vineyards arranged in an amphitheatre to the west of Buxy (why the appellation isn't named for this town rather than the much smaller Montagny-lès-Buxy to the west isn't really clear), and as you might imagine the aforementioned Buxy co-operative, the Cave des Vignerons de Buxy which is situated on a large roundabout on the outskirts of the town, is a reliable source of decent drinking bottles - not so much Montagny, but I do recall acquiring some very decent Crémant de Bourgogne there a long, long time ago.

This brings my brief journey through the vineyards of the Côte Chalonnaise, a region which on the whole I think offers more pleasure in white than red, to an end. For more whites from Burgundy, again with the opportunity to find both quality and value combined, we must move onto Mâconnais.

• Part 15: Mâconnais