It's only fermented grape juice
- and I like it - but...
When is ripe ripe?








    One man's wine is another man's jam

    20 June 2007 / Is your only reference for global wine consultant Michel Rolland the movie documentary
    Mondovino? If so, your image is false. A tad on the defensive – what with critics calling his wine making
    bodybuilding – he took a lot of time during his busy Vinexpo week with a little guy like myself to explain
    his idea of what it takes to make a good wine. And he is a really pleasant person to speak with. He is also
    direct. I was interviewing him for a decanter.com interview about his taking over wine consulting at
    Château Soutard (his first vintage 2006), but we spent time talking about ripeness, alcohol levels and
    harvest times. I told him about a majestic dinner I enjoyed at Beau Séjour Bécot on Tuesday night of
    Vinexpo 2007 (19 June), that I was seated next to another fine wine maker – John Kolasa of Château
    Canon. And that Kolasa said that too many grapes are picked overripe these days, in a rush to obtain
    maximum sugars, often by chateaux which Rolland consults. Rolland said that it is all rather simple. It is
    like a golfer who needs to get the ball in the hole. I loved that simile. Ripe is ripe, he insisted. If the ball
    does not reach the hole, it is under ripe; if it goes past the hole, it is over ripe. Of course one can err with
    not ripe enough – what people used to do, he said – and one can err with overripe – what he admits to
    having done, on occasion. But basically, he is not advocating over ripe grapes.

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    Sounds all well and good – but what about the 1999 Pavie at the dinner I mentioned? It was disjointed,
    with drying tannins coming from all that new oak. Rolland said that 1999 was a difficult year, and that it
    will take more time for the wood to get integrated. But the wine itself has enough concentration, he thinks,
    to do so. Does it? Kolasa did not agree. In fact, he thinks just the opposite: that the 1999 is one of the
    "better" Pavies of the Gerard Perse era, because grapes had to be picked early throughout St. Emilion,
    due to the hail that fell around harvest time. ‘It has nice acidity for a Pavie,’ commented Justin Christoph,
    assistant specialist of Christie’s Auctions. ‘But I also do not like these drying oak tannins.’  

    Your humble author enjoys some of the wines associated with Mr. Rolland - including his own Bon
    Pasteur. But I am not a big fan of Gerard Perse’s Pavies. Count me as one who did not like the 2003 en
    primeur for its being - yes - too jammy. I even found the 2000 less than exciting. In a horizontal of St.
    Emilion 2000s held in Strasbourg in 2005, with many a varied taster, from Argentina and the US to
    France and Germany, not many did either… And the 1999 was disjointed. I do hope it does come
    together.




















    On the other hand, my good friend Pascal Delbeck, wine maker and owner of Château Bélair  – whose
    wines I adore for their fragrant elegance – has told me several times that I like blondes, brunettes and
    redheads. That is, he knows I also like a wine such as Angélus, hardly a poster child for traditionalism. At
    the dinner, a 1995 Angélus was served which I found had done a good job – a better job than Pavie for
    example – in incorporating its 100% new oak ("200% if you count malolactic fermentation in new oak,
    too). Mentioning this to Rolland at Vinexpo the next day, I got a good answer: the Angélus comes from a
    better vintage and is also four years older – with more time to absorb all that oak. But then Kolasa said
    that the Pavie 1998 is "dying" – because it could not handle all that new oak. I would like to try a Pavie
    1998...

    For me, the true test will be to try a Pavie 1999 in about 10 years – and taste it next to a Canon or Bélair
    1999. Which one will have more life, more vivacity, more substance? If anyone can successfully predict,
    I lift my hat to your wisdom! At the dinner, we enjoyed 14 wines from different vintages, from a Figeac
    1950 that was still vibrant and tasty, to the 1999 Pavie. My favorite? The 1982 Bélair: an exceedingly
    floral bouquet, with a subtly powerful palate all on finesse. Wine writer and author Robert Joseph - seated
    at my table - said he could have had that wine all evening. I agree.

    Three issues discussed at length with Rolland and with Kolasa and others: alcohol levels, harvest times
    and ripeness. Kolasa is of the opinion that alcohol is far too high. He remarked that the 1961 Mouton we
    enjoyed at an earlier dinner at Château Mouton Rothschild was 11% alcohol. Rolland had a quick
    answer: climate change and also riper winemaking. And that 1961 was naturally concentrated by frosts
    that naturally concentrated the juice. Today, one can concentrate more or less in every vintage. Rolland
    studied with Emile Peynaud and he would think that Peynaud would have evolved with the times - and
    favored winemaking today. But Kolasa said that the high alcohol levels are dangerous: 'they may taste
    nice in the first few years, like a Languedoc wine, but then the wine will be hard.' He argued that one
    should make wines from older vines which bring concentration over time. As evidenced in a wine like
    Figeac 1950.

    Two days later, I found myself seated next to Jean Claude Berrouet - wine maker for Pétrus and other
    great Right Bank wines over lunch after a visit to Pétrus. He basically agreed with Kolasa, but I noticed
    that the Chateau Trotanoy 1995 (the name, he explained to me, comes from Gascogne meaning trop
    d'ennuies - or 'too much trouble' because of all that clay and at first not knowing which varietal was best
    for it...) we were enjoying - very much so, I must add - clocked in at 13.5% alcohol. Interestingly: only 30%
    new oak. And my goodness was this wine fantastic: structured yet immensely fruity in a very NON
    JAMMY way, tannic bite but never aggressive. Rich yet elegant. I was saying "yes" to every suggestion
    for another pour. And not a hint of planche - or oak board one can get with those "200%" new oak wines...
    This had to be one of my favorite wines of the tasting. Compared to the Angélus 1995, for example, I
    found this to be "purer" wine - and I suspect the relatively minimal use of new oak had much to do with
    my impression.






























    Finally, at the Fete de la Fleur at Smith Haut Lafitte - on Thursday evening - I sat with Lilian Barton of
    Château Léoville Barton and the eminent wine critic Michael Broadbent, who dislikes Michel Rolland
    made wines (photo above). I remember reading someone on the Mark Squires bulletin board say that
    Broadbent has 'lost his palate because of his age.' NOT TRUE... He was very busily noting his
    impressions of the Haut Brion 1998 we had at table, and offered very precise and clear impressions on
    the young first growth. He also enjoyed the Le Pez 2001 (more than I did).

    Interestingly, everyone in this debate, from Rolland to Kolasa, agrees that warmer temperatures over the
    last 20 years have contributed to higher alcohol. Still, Lilian Barton told me that she sometimes has
    trouble with wines clocking in at 13% or more and that her ideal is between 12 and 12.5% - at least on the
    Left Bank.

    In any case: It is a great experience to meet such passion, such conviction in men like Michel Rolland
    and John Kolasa. They have different points of view, but each point of view has to be treated with respect
    and perhaps a bit of good humor.

    As Kolasa remarked to me over dinner, ‘It is only wine.’




    Text and photos copyright by Panos Kakaviatos
Vinexpo page
Michel Rolland at
Vinexpo with a 2004
Bon Pasteur in hand....
A 1961 Mouton for
dinner at the château:
about 11% alcohol...
Bordeaux 2004:
Philosophically
speaking...

My wine philosophy
My wine of the night - not a
poster child for modernity. Jean
Claude Berrouet of Pétrus said
that he 'would not be surprised
if Bélair would come out on top,
if one were to evaluate all the
grands crus in St. Emilion over
the last 20 years...'A wine that is
little understood,' he said.
With Jean Claude Berrouet over lunch next
door to Pétrus. Wine of the lunch: Trotanoy
1995!