Thomas Cottrell is Bellevue Club’s contributing wine columnist and the owner of La Cantina Wine Merchants.
It sounds funny to say, but French wines—arguably the finest wines in the world, and one of the most readily available because of the size of production—are becoming a rare commodity on wine shop and grocery store shelves. There are numerous reasons for this. Most recently it’s all about ex-change rates. The drop in the dollar against the euro has made all European wines about 30 percent more expensive than they were just a couple of years ago. But the interest in domestic wines—especially Washington state wines—has made a lot of wine aficionados forget French wines.
And the increasing quality of Spanish, Italian, New Zealand and South American wines has caught people’s interest, making them ask their wine merchant, “What’s new?” Finally, the great values coming out of Australia’s “lake of wine” have made a lot of converts to wines from the Antipodes. Myself, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart—and mouth—for wines from France. They’re the wines I grew up with and learned on, way back when. It’s my theory that the wines we first learn with and about are the wines we favor for the rest of our lives. Friends who started with California wines, for instance, favor them to this day, no matter how good a Washington or French wine I share with them.
I was reminded of this the other day when I tasted a Macon-Lugny “Les Charmes” in a restaurant. I first tasted this wine some 35 years ago and it may now be even better than it was back then. That’s because it’s produced by a very fine, consistent co-op in Burgundy. The grape for whites in that part of France is Chardonnay, but the style calls for no oak. The resulting wine emphasizes pure fruit flavors, a bit appley and certainly with a touch of earth and minerals. It’s soft and dry without being tart—a great salmon wine.
Not far to the south, and still in the Burgundy region, is Beaujolais—another personal favorite. It’s a wine I enjoy often, partly for old-time’s sake, partly as a refreshing change of pace from big, tannic reds. But I favor traditional Beaujolais, not that Nouveau stuff (although I even indulge in that around Thanksgiving). My favorite is Ch. Basty, but it’s tough to find. More readily available are the wines of Georges Duboeuf, but focus especially on the wines from the better villages such as Morgon or Julienas. You’ll find they’re richer than the average Beaujolais, with a silky, soft texture that will remind you of a more-expensive red Burgundy. And few things go better with an herb-roasted chicken. Heading further south, almost to the Mediterranean, we find the Cote-du-Rhone wines. They come as whites and as rosés (very good), but my favorites are the reds: spicy, slightly peppery wines with plummy fruit laced with a touch of earth. Easy-to-drink, and as modestly priced as every one of the wines listed here, they pair especially well with the cuisine of the region-tomatoes, olive, fresh herbs, onions, garlic; you get the idea. One of the most reliable brands is the Guigal, and it’s readily available.
Going back up north in this vinous tour of France, almost to the center of the country, we find the village of Sancerre, home of one of the world’s best sauvignon blancs. Vibrant and mouth-watering, it is an outstanding seafood wine—especially shellfish. The flavors are of citrus and Greengage, with a hint of gooseberry. Just don’t look for any oak on this beauty. Do look for the wines of Henri Bourgeois—he’s very reliable, easy to find, and fairly priced. Completing the tour, heading east and a bit north, we hit Chablis. This may be the most forged name in the wine world (well, Champagne is right up there). But tasting the original demonstrates why the name has been copied so often and so extensively. The wines are truly distinctive, chardonnay grown in chalky soil and a cool climate, aged only slightly in oak (although this varies a bit from producer to producer). How do they taste? Flinty, minerally, racy but with an underlying richness. They are a unique expression of the grape and unlike any other wine you’ve tasted. Perfect as an aperitif, they are a classic accompaniment to fresh oysters. And the co-op known as La Chablisienne may be the best, and best-priced, source you’ll find anywhere-look for the “Cuvee LC”.
So there you have a half dozen examples of classic, good value wines from France. I’ve been tasting, selling and writing about them for more than 30 years, and I enjoy them as much today as I did at the beginning. Consider this your invitation to explore or rediscover them yourself. Santé!
