R.I.P. Veuve Cliquot

On a ramble through the Marne region, you will find many little markers identifying the houses to which the various vineyards belong. Vineyards are passed down in families, split between heirs, split again, then resold, so that the land becomes a patchwork. A large house like Bollinger or Veuve Cliquot doesn't own one massive area, but myriad plots scattered all over.

323 villages comprise the Champagne region. Within the region, as defined by law in 1927, a geographic area of 34,000 hectares has been strictly delimited for the production of champagne. Every conceivable aspect of production is strictly controlled by law.

For example, only three vine varieties may be planted for the production of champagne: Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier. Spacing between rows of vines must not exceed 1.5 meters. Distance between vine-stocks in the same row must be between 0.9 and 1.5 meters. The sum of the space between rows and the distance between vine-stocks must be less than 2.5 meters. Etc., etc., etc.

Pruning methods are subject to these stringent regulations: only four pruning methods are permitted, and the method used further depends on the cru, or vineyard, and on the type of grape planted. The maximum height for the tallest vines is 0.6 meters, or about two feet. Incredibly (in fact, largely because of this strict pruning), the roots of these vines go down as far as 30 meters into the soil. The soil composition, specifically the deep chalk subsoil, is one of the main components of terroir--the range of geographic and climatic factors which give a wine its unique characteristics.

In the month of November, when I took this picture, there's no fruit or foliage on the vines. The prodigious hardware can be easily seen. That identifying marker looks an awful lot like a headstone. In fact, casual visitors often do mistake them for gravestones. But there's really nothing to mourn. Come spring, summer, and up until the vendange in mid-September, all that metal will be covered with Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier grapes and leaves. The Veuve Cliquot may be dead, but her champagne is not.

Barkfest

I'm starting to write an article about Beaujolais--not the cheapo, just-arrived Beaujolais nouveau of the third week of November, but the pricier Beaujolais crus that improve with age. A cru in French is a vineyard; with respect to Beaujolais, the term refers to the ten areas in the Beaujolais region where these potentially excellent wines are made.

The ten appellations, each designating a specific area in the region, are: Brouilly, Chénas, Chiroubles, Côte de Brouilly, Fleurie, Juliénas, Morgon, Moulin à Vent, Régnié, and Saint-Amour. Typically, these wines are labelled with the individual appellation. The word "Beaujolais" may be nowhere evident on the bottle. Many consumers are therefore unaware that these complex wines, worthy of cellaring, are varieties of Beaujolais. This ignorance contributes to the stereotype of Beaujolais as an inexpensive, easy-drinking wine of little complexity.

The region itself is, like every other wine-growing region of France, picturesque and beautiful. Every square centimeter of every hectare is lovingly and painstakingly cultivated and cared for. There might be people who can visit such a place and not want to stay forever, but I'm not one of them.

My dog seems to be a bit of a Francophile, like me. She's never been to the country, but she seems particularly attuned to the language. Taz responds much better to commands in French than in English. "Do you want to go for a walk?" produces a mildly interested prick of the ears, while "Tu veux te promener?" occasions a frenzy of barking and a wild scamble for the door.

Last night I was reciting the ten Beaujolais crus to her, in alphabetical order. Taz began a volley of barking; by the time I got to "Regnié," she seemed ready to knock me down. It's hard sometimes to figure out what's going on inside the brain of a dog. Does something about the inflection of French set her off? Does it sound similar enough to commands related to joyous topics like walks and treats to frustrate her, since I'm remaining in my chair? Or--as I like to think--is she saying, "YES! Let's go! Let's go! When do we sail? Let's go!"