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A BRILLIANCE OF BURGUNDIES

AND AN AFTERTASTE YOU COULD SPREAD ON A BISCUIT

Bruce Palling goes bananas for top Burgundy, uncorks a few metaphors, and corrects those less discerning wine-drinkers who might have been careless enough to think of Burgundy as merely a Mozart to Bordeaux's Bach ...

From our food and drink blog, MORE, PLEASE!

Tuesday might have been the day of the government's mini-budget, or the start of the Frieze Art Fair, for some Londoners, but for me it was occasion of something far more personally significant—a master class in some of the world's greatest Burgundy, including three of the finest vintages of the past couple of decades. We all should know by now that great Burgundy is made in minuscule amounts compared with say, Bordeaux's Chateau Lafite, which regularly turns out 20,000 cases in a typical vintage. Musigny Vieilles Vignes, easily the equivalent of Lafite in the Burgundian world, produces less than a thousand cases in a good vintage. And that is their largest production. Their white Burgundy is produced in thimblefuls. There are only 100 cases of that and we drank half a case of it last night.

Since the death of Henri Jayer, (see my obit of him in The Independent), Domaine Comte Georges de Vogüé, in the commune of Chambolle-Musigny, is the only domaine that can be spoken of in the same breath as Romanée-Conti. Created in the mid-15th century, its 30 acres surround the original house and outbuildings, which have been lived in by descendants of the same owners since 1528.

Jean-Luc Pépin, the sales director, presented three flights of his tiny crops in the reception room of the Caledonian Club, an improbable establishment just opposite the Halkin hotel in Belgravia. Wine merchants Corney and Barrow, who hold the UK agency, had 50 clients all lined up at long tables facing the front like eager school children, complete with half a dozen Riedel glasses with little circular labels slipped over the stems advising of their wares. This was the first time the fabled 2005 vintage had been tasted outside of France—a generous gesture, given that Corney's allocation sold out months ago.

To describe the white wine as Bourgogne Blanc is about as useful as calling a short-wheelbase Ferrari 250 GTO a car. The vines are sited on the sole location designated Musigny Blanc Grand Cru, but the Domaine says that, since the vines are only 15 years old on average, it should wait for a few more years before claiming that honour. The real problem with this wine is that it is so enjoyable now that I doubt if many bottles will last the requisite 10 to 15 years to let its potential shine through. The tannins are concealed under the beautifully balanced fruit while the overall effect is something like a cross between a great Corton-Charlemagne and a Chablis from Raveneau. Pépin mentioned there is also a Poire Wilhelm taste in the centre, which was a shorthand way of describing the immense depth and strength of the fruit.

The genuine modesty of the Domaine does not end there. Their Premier Cru Chambolle-Musigny is made entirely from vines on the actual Musigny estate, but again, at around 25 years old, the vines are considered too adolescent to qualify as the real thing. This must be the grandest "second wine" in existence, with an amazing ski-slope-like plunge of tastes before emerging high in the air after lift-off (don't know any other way of describing the joy of this stuff).

The so-called straight village wine they produce (which typically includes some tiny amounts of neighbouring Premier Cru grapes too) was to me too much like raspberry juice compared to these other magnificent wines. I know this is unfair, as I have tasted wonderful older ones. There is also 160 cases of Chambolle-Musigny Premier Cru Les Amoureuses, which is far more lacy and ethereal than the others. It, too, was extraordinary at this early juncture, but was obviously capable of far more expressiveness with time. After that, the Bonnes-Mares (400 cases) was a bit like a Page Three Sun bimbo—a massive hearty experience best left for those who like their pleasures straight up and down the wicket.

The pinnacle was the Musigny Vieilles Vignes '05 (900 cases). This was as powerful as the Bonnes-Mares but far more inchoate and slightly rambling—not because it was inferior in any way, but simply getting its act together, along with an undercurrent of tannins to help it on its long journey. The aftertaste went on for nearly a minute. Allen Meadows, a top Burgundy critic, reckons the 2005 to be on a par with the legendary 1990, 1949 or even the 1919. Getting hold of a bottle could be a bit tricky until it comes out on the grey market later this year as the original allocations went in hours.

After this amazing tasting, I was left worrying that SlavChavs, PlebCelebs and other boors would find the '05s so attractive now that they could easily be drunk up well before their prime, once they hit the three-star Michelin restaurants of this world.

The remainder of the evening was almost an anticlimax. This is of course ridiculous, given that we were tasting the '02s and '99s—also stellar vintages. Pépin said he had never before given a class with these three top vintages.

What made it so valuable was that by the end of the evening, with little in the way of nourishment save the occasional water biscuit, we could line up all three Vieilles Vignes or Bonnes-Mares or Premier Crus and just compare and contrast them. What became apparent to me at least was how much more I preferred the '02s to the '99s. To me the '99s suffered from a bit too much heat which gave the wines a slightly uniform tropical tinge, while the '02s had more black fruit (as opposed to red) and more centre.

Still, it is easy to fall flat on your face when you are dealing with wines that really shouldn't be approached until well into the next decade. I know how vital this is from opening a 2001 Villages de Vogüé in September and finding it tasteless until it had been decanted for more than two hours. Even then, it was really only hinting at its potential.

I forgot to add that we were given as a special treat, an '88 Amoureuses at the end of the tasting. It certainly had great charm and delicacy but the problem is that when you have tasted sublime examples of wines, you tend to be harsh in your judgement of relatively light wine that will not vastly improve.

Overall, it was a true education for someone who until recently tended to feel that Burgundy was merely Mozart to Bordeaux's Bach. The next dilemma is to consider if the '05s will be showing their best in time for me to appreciate them, as, after the age of 80, ones taste buds begin to fade. I will simply have to take the chance—or spoil my greedy children.