Nicolas Joly, 2023 Update
If I were to draw up a shortlist of the Loire Valley’s greatest vineyards, there is no doubt that the Clos de la Coulée de Serrant would be included. Indeed, such is the potential and the renown of this clos that it may even enjoy a podium position, among the top three. The identities of its various contenders are up for debate; Les Monts Damnés in Sancerre, surely, or (bearing in mind this is about the potential of the vineyard, not the quality or renown enjoyed by its wines) the oft-overlooked Clos de la Poussie? Perhaps La Croix Boissée in Chinon? Or some slice of the Quarts de Chaume appellation? Take your pick. But a top-three finish for the Clos de la Coulée de Serrant is surely guaranteed.
I recall the first time I walked among the vines of the Clos de la Coulée de Serrant, too many years ago now. It seemed to me there was a sense of magic to the place, although this feeling perhaps reflected my knowledge of the site’s history, soils and potential as much as any mystical aura it might possess. Nevertheless, the unyielding nature of the bare schist rock underfoot, the rise and fall of the landscape, and the glistening waters of the Loire close by, all have some effect on vinously tinged emotions.
This is perhaps not the most tidy vineyard you are likely to set eyes upon. But nor should it be. A hands-off, organic and biodynamic approach may be good for the soil, but it can leave the vineyard looking rather wild at times (if the sheep have not been in to graze recently, anyway). But that’s all fine provided the quality of the wine is up to scratch.
And that for me is the issue.
I adore many of the wines coming out of Savennières today (using this term to describe not only the wines of this appellation but also its two enclaves, Savennières Roche-aux-Moines and Coulée de Serrant, both awarded independent appellation status in 2015), but the wines I favour are those that display tension, minerality and precision. They are not the wines that often carry 15% or higher levels of alcohol, the flavour profile tinged with botrytis, the texture softened by malolactic fermentation (although many wines I enjoy, such as those of Château Pierre-Bise, go through malolactic fermentation). The wines of Nicolas Joly and family are, typically, in this latter alcohol-botrytis-malolactic camp.
