Adventures in the Chalk

In his third and final column on champagne, ned goodwin mw runs with the devil as he samples Dom Pérignon and Moët & Chandon

THIS FINAL SNIPPET about champagne houses concerns the behemoths, Moët & Chandon and Dom Pérignon. While the umbrella ownership of these two famous names has separated the brands, the reality is that Dom Pérignon is the prestige cuvee of Moët & Chandon and that both brands are responsible for a great deal of wine. As a result, wines from Moët in particular are often perceived as the devil incarnate by many purists, especially those sommeliers for whom table-side banter is facilitated by romantic tales of grower champagnes and their inherently smaller production.

Nevertheless, Moët’s quality is on the up while Dom Pérignon’s has seldom been compromised, even if the decision to have made a 2003 proved contentious. The sheer largesse of Moët & Chandon and the ubiquity of Brut Imperial mean that fruit is sourced from vast holdings across Champagne’s production zones. Indeed, Moët & Chandon is by far the largest owner of vineyards in the region, allowing for access to an unrivalled diversity of vineyard sites and grapes that fuel the plurality of styles that the house produces. This broad palette of raw material serves to obviate difficult vintages and less-than-ideal fruit. This was the case with the dry and dangerously precocious 2003 vintage, for example.

To put Moët & Chandon’s size into perspective, with 15,000 hectares of vineyards and 120 million bottles in its cellar, Moët produces a whopping 12 percent of Champagne’s total production of around 385 million bottles. Dom Pérignon alone produces at least 5 million bottles, dwarfing the production of any other luxury cuvée in Champagne. In contrast, Louis Roederer, with 127 of its 214 hectares given over to grand cru, boasts the largest independent vineyard ownership relative to production (around 3 million bottles); while exponentially, Bollinger holds the largest percentage of vineyards in communes rated premier or grand cru (around 67 percent) according to Champagne’s rather antiquated échelles system of classification.

Dom Pérignon is largely sourced from a majority of estate-owned vineyards, mostly from the same 14 sites each year. A good portion comes from old plots in Hautvillers. Hautvillers is a hamlet that has been designated premier cru status. More importantly, it is the site of the abbey of Hautvillers where Dom Pérignon himself, the monk who is said (by Moët & Chandon, at least) to have discovered the art of bringing effervescence to a wine, served. This legend has been deftly marketed by Dom Pérignon with great success.

Despite commercial and historical binds between the brands, differences between Moët & Chandon and Dom Pérignon are demarcated by many factors aside from price. The seamless style of Dom Pérignon is made under the aegis of the irrepressible Chef du Cave Richard Geoffroy. Moët & Chandon, on the other hand, spans many tiers of quality and is made by the confident, resourceful and youthful Benoit Gouez. As with many winemakers, both like to talk. A lot!

Geoffroy, one minute hands clasped and pensive; the next spinning like a dervish about the room, elucidates on the “light and dark” of his wines as if exploring the chiaroscuro of a Leonardo piece. Geoffroy’s erudition is as impressive as his passion is effusive. He also speaks about grey versus brown aromas (grey good; brown bad); and reductive winemaking and the purity it imbues unto wines, as opposed to oxidative handling and the heavier wines that result. His champagnes are about poise, depth, tension, precision and multifaceted layers and textures, rather than obvious power. “Power is easy to attain,” Geoffroy claims.

While in Champagne I was fortunate to taste some older vintages from magnum. Dom Pérignon’s enduring quality is manifest in the flamboyant and truffley 1969, acaciafilled and creamy, juxtaposed against the tightly wound and majestic 1973. Both of these wines are incandescent on many levels and transcend attempts to accost them with something as paltry as scores. Both champagnes seared themselves into my memory bank. The 1973, in particular, impressed it as it ricocheted across the palate with febrile energy, incredible exactitude and length.

While the 2003 is the current release, balanced but not necessarily as tensile as I like, better are its predecessors: the highly strung 1996, still bones and knees but with lots of stuffing that will reveal itself over a long ageing window; and the supine yet wonderfully complex 1998, a vintage that I fell in love with. The 1996 gets 94 points while the 1998, 96 points. The richer and softer 1999 hails from a high-yielding and warmer year, and gets 92 points.

Dom Pérignon’s blend can fall on either side of an even split between Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. The wines spend around seven years on lees, while the Oenothèque series spends a further six to seven years on lees, under cork, for a minimum of 12 years on its yeast cells. This allows for autolytic depth, or complex biscuity notes, as well as a creamy texture from a build-up of proteins.

In contrast, Moët & Chandon’s Gouez speaks about the pragmatic approach necessary to craft the more elegant and streamlined champagnes to which Moët, under his guise, aspires. These efforts are especially apparent when it comes to the impressive Grand Vintage line. The 2002 has the matière typical of the year, with 51 percent Chardonnay, 26 percent Pinot Noir and 23 percent Pinot Meunier, melded into a rich and creamy amalgam of roasted hazelnuts, coffee and tangy stone-fruit flavours, following seven years on lees.

Perhaps more a revelation, given the torrefacted and clumsy nature of many wines from the vintage, is the 2003. Built from a similar period on lees, a sugar dosage well within the legal parameters of “extra brut” at just over five grams per litre, and an innovative whack of 43 percent of Pinot Meunier – with the more luminous Chardonnay and Pinot Noir making up the remainder of the blend in almost equal parts – this is a wine that exhibits flair, richness and the soft, fruity weight of the year with aplomb. With the dehydration of the grapes in 2003 in mind, Gouez wisely opted for Meunier from the more water-retaining clay soils on which the variety thrives. This gave more vital and transparent wines.

I give 92 points to the Grand Vintage 2002 and 91 to the 2003, although for derring-do alone, the latter quite possibly deserves more! These wines are light years from the often coarse and cloying Brut Imperial. Admittedly, they are accessible early, albeit these are distinctive wines for the table with a pedigree that belies the jaded opinions of many soothsayers.