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Ancient Vintages from Château de Fesles

This was no private jet - the Winedoctor donation button hasn't been quite that successful - but it seemed pretty close. With all three seats in my row to myself, and the small number of other passengers out of sight at least several rows behind me, this flight was one of the more peaceful and solitary that I have undertaken in all my Winedoctor travels. I flipped up all the armrests and made the most of my unexpectedly spacious environment, and took a peek out of the window.

For some reason - I never thought to enquire why - we were cruising at an altitude of only 24,000 feet, much lower than the norm which - and I only know this because on occasion I actually listen to the pilot's announcements - tends to be somewhere around 33,000 feet. With a clear, cloud-free sky providing good visibility all the way to the haze of the horizon, and at a slightly lower altitude than is usual, I had a superb view of the ground below. There, snaking across the patchwork quilt of fields and vineyards was, unmistakeably, the Loire. It slowly wound its way through the landscape, its lazy appearance compounded by a never-ending string of sandy islands streaked along its length. This was the Loire alright, and my spotting it at this moment seemed quite appropriate. After all, I was en route for one of the grandest tastings of my life, and it was to feature one of the Loire's most iconic and yet rarely sighted wines. I had an evening of Bonnezeaux ahead of me.

We landed ten minutes ahead of schedule, for which I was grateful, as I only had an hour or two before the tasting and dinner. The airport was a familiar one, but I was nowhere near the Loire. The flight had continued on to Mérignac, not Bonnezeaux but Bordeaux, and my destination was a suburb of this city, where I was to meet up with the descendents of Jean Boivin, the proprietor of Château des Fesles for much of the 20th century.

The Boivins of Bordeaux

Although recent events provide potential cause for alarm (not that long ago Château de Fesles was purchased by Grands Chais de France, the company behind such uninspiring brands as J.P. Chenet, of the wonky bottle) there was a time when, without a doubt, this was one of the grandest estates of the Loire. The château and vineyard was originally part of a much larger estate which had been acquired by François Boivin in 1870. From François the estate came to Florent his nephew, and then Amboise. Upon the death of the latter it was divided, and one-quarter of the estate, the portion destined to be the Château de Fesles we know today, was inherited by Jean Boivin. The other three quarters passed to his three sisters, and Jean was responsible for making the wine on these other sections as well as at Fesles.

Jean ruled the estate with an iron rod, and would not tolerate having anyone else in his cellar. He clearly had some talent, having tasted some of his wines, but it seems he was a difficult character all the same, and his offspring found themselves overshadowed. It was only upon Jean's death that his son Jacques finally had some semblance of rule over the estate. Meanwhile Jacques' brother, unable to work alongside his recalcitrant father, left for greener pastures. His intention was to emigrate to the USA but unable to acquire the appropriate visa he ended up settling in Bordeaux. Viticulture and wine still called to him though, and he initially worked at Pavie, but ultimately he moved sideways into brewing and did not return to wine as a career.

And thus today his descendents, one branch of the Boivin family, have ended up living in the suburbs of Bordeaux. And although they may no longer have control of Château de Fesles, they are still in possession of a good stock of wines, some quite ancient. Over the years they have gradually been depleting this library of older vintages, via the usual method, which seems quite appropriate when we consider that Boivin is likely to be a derivative of bois vin, which translates as 'drink wine'. Nevertheless, the family still have more than a few bottles left, and it was these wines - of fine provenance but perhaps not all in fine condition, I was warned - that I was here to taste.

The evening was a fascinating one, and I learnt much. First, I learnt that very old Bonnezeaux, especially from great vintages such as 1947, can drink very well indeed, despite the dark and less-than-reassuring walnutty hue that one or two of the wines had taken on with age. Second, I learnt much more of the history of the estate, principally thanks to the words of Christophe Boivin, Jacques Boivin's nephew. I have not focused too much on this new information here, but will do so in an updated profile of the estate. And third, I learnt that Au Bonheur du Palais, where we decamped for a fine dinner, during which we mopped up what remained of the 1947 and 1930, really must be one of the greatest Chinese restaurants in the world....something I suspected when I visited for the first time during the primeurs tastings earlier this year.

The Wines

We began with vintages that I have heretofore thought of as mature, but as you will see from this tasting I may have to reassess my allegiance to this paradigm! The 1990 La Chapelle showed extremely well, easily on a par with previous bottles I have experienced which were largely sourced from the cellars of a British university, and which had thus been very well stored. The La Chapelle cuvée, incidentally, comes from the parcel of vines down one side of the château and has long been regarded - since Jean Boivin's time, if not before - as the best section of the vineyard. The 1988 La Chapelle was dead, acetic and not poured such was its terminal condition, and so the 1985 was next. This was not so rich as the 1990, but made up for this with a fine freshness of character.

Thereafter quality took a nose dive, and in combination with the deceased 1988 it began to look as though this might be a very brief tasting. Neither the 1980 nor the 1972 were the most convincing of wines; the former fading but certainly still of interest, whereas the latter had the most curious vegetal aroma strongly suggestive of baked potato. This curious aroma prompted childhood memories of Guy Fawkes Night to resurface; dark and wintry evenings, baked potatoes and toffee apples, smoke in the air, the fireworks crackling and sparking overhead. It sounds evocative perhaps, but in all honesty the scent of lightly-burnt baked potato is not an appealing aroma in wine, and I quickly moved on to the next glass.

Thereafter things began to pick up, and it soon became clear there could be some treats ahead. The 1970 was coolly composed and perhaps reflective of a less than enticing vintage, and it was thoroughly shamed by the delicious 1955, which showed great vigour for its age, with just a faint trace of oxidation. Sadly, the 1959 Château des Gauliers - from one of the three-quarters of the original vineyard not bequeathed to Jean Boivin, but managed by him - which came between these two wines was less enticing, having given over entirely to oxidation. The 1943, which came later, was of a similar vein, a fading shell of a wine.

The high points of the tasting came at the end, with a trio of superb wines from the 1947, 1930 and 1924 vintages. Each was different, meritorious in its own way. The 1924 impressed purely with its tenacity; admittedly this wine now seems more redolent of an Australian liqueur Muscat than anything from Bonnezeaux, but I couldn't help but warm to its sweetness and depth. Now 87-years old, I can only hope that I am in such good condition when I reach the same age! The 1930 was a wine which, while not wholly convincing aromatically, did all it need to do on the palate, and still possessed a remarkable freshness that should see this wine through to a very fine old age. My top wine of the night though was without a doubt the 1947; while not as venerable and ancient as the other two wines, a 'mere' 64-years old, this was sweet, complex and multilayered. It may not go the same distance as the 1924 or 1930, the colour already quite dark, but I would not be so sure. But if I had a few bottles in my cellar, I would certainly be drinking these now. They have seen out at least six decades already....why wait any longer?

My thanks to Christophe Boivin, Jean Boivin's grandson, Philippe Laqueche, his brother-in-law, and their respective families (including Philippe's absolutely charming children who just as fascinated by the wines of their ancestors as I was) for hosting and arranging this magnificent tasting. (29/11/11)

Château de Fesles, October 2011 - Tasting Notes

The wines below were tasted with Christophe Boivin and his family in October 2011. I have not made any notes on the 1988 (acetic, not assessed any further) or the 1943 (which seemed quite dead). All my tasting notes on the wines of Château de Fesles, including those below, are collated under my Château de Fesles profile. I doubt very much whether many of these wines will be available at retail, but I have included Wine-Searcher links just in case. Click to locate stockists.

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux La Chapelle 1990: An amazing colour here, rich and deep. From a warm vintage of course, and this comes through in the intensity of the hue. There is surely some botrytis here, aromatically. A harmonious start on the palate, quite seamless, relaxed, mellifluous, opening up to reveal attractively bitter, structured and precise elements. It feels rather warm and soft in keeping with the vintage, but still possesses a very charming style. delicious and incredibly concentrated, but elegant and stylish, showing an amazing length and grip though the finish. It is incredibly long. This is showing better than my previous bottles, testament to its impeccable provenance perhaps? A remarkable start to the tasting. 18.5/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1985: Rich in terms of appearance, but nothing like the depth of the 1990. Pure, honeyed, an almost floral elegance here. The fruit in this vintage seems less warm and generous, but it still seems magnificent on the palate, rich and very harmonious, with great linearity to it. There is lively and very succinct acidity at the midpalate and through into the finish, keeping the length of the wine alive with a charged and bright composition. This feels complete, very true to its origins, with a great elegance, and with a lovely freshness on the finish. Spiced, grippy, energetic, really flourishing here, broadening out on the palate at the very end, revealing more nuances and scents, but always with that bright finish. Really understated. Delicious. 18/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1980: A pale honeyed gold. This wine seems a little subdued on the nose. showing slightly lemony, steely aromas. It certainly does not have the welcoming charm of the 1985 and 1990 that came before it. It is fleshy but savoury in terms of flavour profile on the palate, although there is plenty of sweetness too. Quite a charged finish, richer in acid than the other vintages, keeping the palate rather more tense and nervous. In the finish there is a long and lingering grip. The flavours here seem slightly confected, but it has a charged, exciting and energetic length. Although not as convincing as the preceding wines this puts on rather a noble show, a slowly fading aristocrat, looking a little shabby around the edges but the noble character can still be perceived beneath. 15.5/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1972: A very evolved colour here, a honeyed gold moving into an burnished amber hue. A slightly dirty, vegetal nose, with suggestions of a little oxidation. There are roasted herbs here, and a burnt edge to it, strangely redolent of burnt baked potato. Overpoweringly so in fact. Memories of childhood bonfire parties! In the mouth a lean start, some oxidation coming in here too, and yet there is freshness in terms of structure. But those notes of smouldering embers and roasted-burnt vegetables dominate. The sweetness and the frame is still there, and there is in fact a sense of harmony here that I didn't expect considering the unusual aromatic profile. A solid wine, with more substance here than in the 1980, also long and energetic, on the palate this has good form. It's just that I would need a peg on the nose to drink it. 15/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1970: A much paler and more promising colour here. The nose has a slight petrol element to it though, which is surprising, with suggestions of floral and menthol character coming through thereafter. The palate has a nicely rounded and attractive flesh to it, but with those floral elements coming in at the side providing some interest. The slightly greener and evolved notes on the nose don't really show on the palate, and the structure is holding up really well. It has breadth and flesh still. There is no suggestion it is drying out, although this is clearly not a great vintage. Overall, attractive. 16/20

Château des Gauliers (Fourlinnie-Boivon) 1959: After the paler hue of the 1970 we have returned to a rich, golden-amber hue here, more like the 1972 Fesles. Burnt aromas here again, and aromatically this is suggestive of oxidation, with a firm lemony acidity underpinning it. It is certainly a challenging wine. The palate seems quite disparate, more oxidised, with a sharper acidity than the younger vintages which cuts through the palate with a fierce, ragged edge. It is not so long in the finish either. Amazingly though there is still life here, but this is an academic point, as it is showing signs of falling apart. And there is that oxidation too. 14.5/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1955: A rich and appealing colour here, a golden amber hue, but with a convincing brightness. A remarkable nose, honeyed, somewhat baked, slightly biscuity, with notes of bitter orange marmalade. Mature, slightly woody, with polished oak scents, this is certainly appealing. It is not exactly incisive in terms of how these aromas are delineated, and there are still little moments of doubt here and there, fleeting old-barrel notes, but this is still greatly superior to some of the preceding vintages. A very harmonious palate, with touches of coffee, a faint trace of oxidation, but overall it is supple, very broad and full of life and energy. Great persistence in the mouth. This is really well composed and holding up beautifully, and is showing amazing vigour for its age. It is not crisply incisive, but it has great vivacity. This is really impressive for 56 years, and I delight in savouring it on the palate - I held it there for as long as I could. 17.5/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1947: The darkest wine so far, an amber hue darkening considerably, although still not brown. A great vibrancy for a wine aged over sixty years though, even with that dark hue. Wow - what a nose! This is beautifully expressive with sweet, golden, crunchy botrytis elements, so rich it is tinged with toffee, overlaid with little elements of walnut and wood alongside the sweetness. A trace of oxidation? Nevertheless it is intense and convincing. The anticipation before it goes in the mouth is considerable. There it seems so very confident, intense, concentrated, reminiscent of baked honey, with brilliant energy here, giving the wine vigour, structure and backbone. The finish is firm and substantial, cut through by the acidity, which is balanced and fresh rather than too firm. This is utterly entrancing; I keep coming back to it to experience once more the paradox of its honeyed, rich and mellifluous weight and its sense of energy. 19/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1930: This is the only wine in this tasting where there is a question mark over the provenance, the hand-written label suggesting this might be a Coteaux du Layon rather than Bonnezeaux. The vintage is clearly marked, though. The colour here is impressive, in that it remains quite restrained - I expected something much more caramelly than this after the 1947. It has a sweet amber note, nothing more. Surprisingly this feels very green on the nose, with menthol especially, also it is redolent of green, freshly pulled nettles, or nettle soup perhaps! Also some rather almond-like aromas. But mint and menthol most of all. Certainly an interesting nose, although with some time in the glass this does eventually fade, and more toffee-like elements come in, but it retains a great freshness throughout. A broad and sweet palate, really appealing, mellifluous and honeyed, and yet still fresh. So long and slowly fading in the finish. Although aromatically I had my doubts, the palate is magnificent, vivacious, with a very fine and bitter grip. Not really a hint of degeneration here. Just ever so slightly oxidative. In fact, perhaps tellingly in view of its slightly confusing origin, this feels a little like modern Juchepie. Nevertheless, whether it is Fesles or some unidentified Coteaux du Layon, this is a remarkable wine. 17.5/20

Château de Fesles Bonnezeaux 1924: We've moved on to a more tawny hue here. And there is an undeniable seam of walnut and toffee on the nose, clearly some suggestions of oxidation, along with a layer of baked and caramelised fruit. This is not giving too much away as to what the palate will be like. Nevertheless it is fresh, very convincing, sweet, rich and intense, with a firm, incisive and structured backbone. There are some amazing flavours though, with a great intensity. It feels less harmonious than the 1930 and 1947, with firmer acidity, but I suspect that is what has kept this wine alive. Alongside the caramel there are paradoxical tinges of celeriac and white pepper; overall this is quite complex and appealing, and there is a lovely weight behind it. This is reminiscent of an Australian liqueur Muscat, like the old Seppelt DP64 I used to drink, many years ago. And it is certainly an enticing wine that I would be happy to drink now - once the 1930 and 1947 had been finished of course. 17/20