Adventures in the Chalk

In the first in a short series of columns on champagne, NED GOODWIN MW
bursts some of the bubbles that suffuse one of France’s most celebrated exports

I AM IN CHAMPAGNE to research a book and train some corporate salespeople. It’s the end of April and temperatures, at least as I sit here and type, are still dipping below freezing of a morning and night. Intuitively, however, I find myself discovering the humanity of a region that can appear aloof, impregnable and elitist from afar. Whether this is because champagne remains a symbol of luxury for most of us, or due to the inherent associations with the region’s frigid climate and meagre chalky soils, I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s because of both.

After all, whether one has visited Champagne or not, the pop of a bottle sends tingles down the spine that reverberate with the names of the grand production houses, with discussion of champagne’s complex production process and inimitable house styles, and with the sybaritic notion that champagne is exclusive and with that, designed for celebration and little more.

However, champagne is inexorably becoming a wine to be drunk at the table, with food. It’s not just for special occasions. Consumption, despite some dips here and there because of the global financial crisis, is on the rise. Again! After all, the demand for champagne has managed to transcend every calamity thrown at it by history and yet, now, the balance between supply and demand is about to reach a breaking point.

By 2013, simple arithmetic tells us that the demand for champagne will exceed the quantities produced, no matter the misguided endeavours by some to raise yields beyond their qualitative limitations. New plantings have been promulgated. However, a revision of individual parcels of vineyards remains under way and with the debate inherent to La France profonde, it will probably not be before 2020 at the earliest that bottles from these new sub-zones make their way onto our shelves.

While champagne’s finite quantities are intrinsic to quality, real and perceived – and champagne must never become a mass-produced wine – a refreshing veneer of approachability has many positive repercussions. Myths and stereotypes about the region and people can be put to rest. Nothing could be further from the truth than notions that Champagne and the champenois are unwelcoming. Compared with Bordeaux, where everybody seems to wear stiff button-down shirts, cord pants and a scowl, Champagne is thoroughly humane.

In the remainder of this series of columns, I will incorporate tales about producers that I visited with some notes about those wines that I consider among the finest in Champagne. I’ve only written about those that I tasted, that are available and, most importantly, offer exceptional drinking. Anything scoring above 90 points suggests an exceptional wine, while 95 or more indicates a wine of compelling complexity and class. I realise that not everybody agrees with the moral platitude of giving points to a liquid that has such emotional ties. Perhaps, given our need to differentiate the subtleties of that which moves the heart as much as the mind, scoring can be seen as a necessary evil.

First up is Bollinger. Straight off an overnight flight from Singapore by way of Tokyo, Bollinger was my first appointment. I felt a bit rough. Unkempt. In need of a shower. The air was cold, the wind coarse and the humidity of the cellars was permeating my bones. I was achy.

Christian Dennis, Bollinger’s brand ambassador, gave me a neat tasting following an insightful tour of the cellars, where Bollinger’s exactitude and attention to a barrel regime like no other was on full display. Only used barrels from Meursault, Puligny and Chassagne-Montrachet are used for the primary fermentation, along with some larger-format wood from the turn of the century. Bollinger employs the only cooper in Champagne to maintain the collection. The idea is to give the wines breadth and texture, rather than oak tannins. These are among the most powerful of all champagnes. The range begins with Bollinger Special Cuvée NV which, given the high proportion of premier and grand cru fruit, is among the very finest non-vintage champagnes.

Further demonstrating this great producer’s maniacal attention to detail, the impressive stash of reserve wines at Bollinger is kept perky with the addition of a prise de mousse. This unique approach also maximises flavour before blending and the final fermentation in bottle. The reserve wines and the top of the range are all aged under cork.

I also saw the two remaining plots used for Bollinger’s Vieilles Vignes Françaises champagne, which does not refer to the age of the vines but to the ancient way of wrapping the canes and shoots around V-shaped stakes before encouraging the strongest to propagate under the soil, en foule, before the new fruit appears on the emerging shoots above the surface, in the spring. The roots do not delve deep, as is commonly thought to be a prerequisite for top wine. Rather the grape clusters dangle from unkempt growth, while the roots sprawl like a rag doll with a mess of hair, close to the soil. This dishevelled environ is responsible for one of the most expensive and unique of all champagnes; powerful, unctuous and unique. Sadly, you’re unlikely to find it, given its rarity.

Bollinger La Grande Année 2002 is an outstanding wine boasting a phalanx of ginger, bread and acacia aromas with force and superb detail in the mouth. The thrust and parry between the wine’s power and finesse provides compelling drinking. La Grande Année will cellar for a decade or more, especially because 2002 is a vintage of matière, power and finesse – a combination seldom found. Almost as good, La Grande Année Rosé 2004 is made with six to eight percent of red wine that has been vinified extractively and aged in oak. The red portion hails from the warm site behind the house, Côte aux Enfants. One of the finest rosé champagnes of all and from a voluminous year, it strides across the mouth with athleticism and flavours of maraschino cherry and spice. I give 96 points for La Grande Année 2002 and 93 points for La Grande Année Rosé 2004

By my second visit, to Heidsieck, I was feeling ethereal. My mind, keen and fuelled by the tasting at Bollinger, had left my body, which by now felt like a heavy sack that I was dragging behind me. I’d heard that good things were going on at Heidsieck, the name attached to Piper-Heidsieck and Charles Heidsieck, a brand of my youth and the celebratory table, and whose founder, Charles-Camille Heidsieck, was known affectionately as “Champagne Charlie”.

Under the aegis of Chef de Cave Regis Camus, Piper has improved greatly. Fresh and aperitif-like, it’s an easy-drinking champagne that’s better than it has ever been.

Meanwhile, Charles Heidsieck remains a paragon of exceptional quality. Charles flies under the radar as an insider’s drink, but will soon undergo a renaissance. A new management team has helped inject both brands with vitality and optimism.

Charles Heidsieck is an altogether richer style than Piper; a different wine. Charles is built on a foundation of deep reserve wines and long lees ageing across the range. I was fortunate enough to taste unblended base wines from many communes, along with reserve wines of varying age, providing transparent insight into what each imbues unto the resultant wines, all vastly underrated. What became clear is that Charles is crafted with more structured base wines and is powerful and highly complex, while Piper relies on daintier material.

The Charles Heidsieck Millésime Blanc des Millénaires 1995 is indisputably the wine of the range and a staggeringly rich champagne. One-hundred percent Chardonnay and aged a whopping 10 years on lees and another six-years in bottle before it hits the market, this is the oldest prestige cuvée in Champagne currently on the market. This toasty behemoth balances its dosage nicely and lays itself across the palate with confidence and grace. Its generosity is manifest in layers of flavour, virtually ineffable in their complexities. A nectar of orange blossom, ginger, brioche and butter, Charles Heidsieck Millésime Blanc des Millénaires 1995 is hedonistic and utterly delicious! I give it 95 points-plus.

Follow Ned Goodwin MW at twitter.com/rednedwine or email at info.nedgoodwin@me.com