Is Burgundy on Road Back to Its Former Greatness?

Truly dedicated wine lovers often ask me these days if Burgundy is coming back. The question ought to be, I suppose, did Burgundy really ever leave?

The allegations are everywhere, placed there by “allegers” as knowledgeable as Anthony Hanson, master of wine and one of the first major critics of the way Burgundy wines have been made recently. At least, the way Burgundy wines were being made through the 1970s when Hanson was researching his now-infamous book on the region.

But to backtrack: I have tasted Burgundy as it is supposed to be. I have tasted wines from 1929 and from 1933 and ’69 and ’71. And ’76. The great wines stand out like beacons, with elements that span the vinous lingo from cherry to earth, from pipe tobacco to cedar, from something as mundane as barnyard to as evocative as a pine forest after a rain.

Great Burgundy is a rare treat, and the word rare is used with knowledge aforethought because of the difficulty in finding a truly great Burgundy. And when one does find one, the price is always prohibitive (as with the Domaine de la Romanee-Conti wines, the ’86 versions of which were evaluated here recently. They run $80 to $250 a bottle.)

Yet even at as “modest” a price as $30 or $40 a bottle, quality is erratic. We all know that the emperor occasionally wears rags, but who among us would shout it? Hanson did in his 1982 book entitled, simply, “Burgundy.”

Fanatical Demand for Burgundy

Hanson lived in Burgundy for three years researching his topic and his no-holds frontal assault on the sacred region had the elders of the soil screaming foul.

“Burgundy has a secret,” Hanson wrote to open one chapter. “It is the extent to which its reputation as a producer of great red wines is founded on occasional splendid vintages.”

He alleged, among other atrocities, that dark-colored wine “from Mediterranean shores” was added to Burgundy to give it color (a legal no-no). He said sugar was routinely added before fermentation to boost alcohol content, even in good vintages where it wasn’t necessary.

He said the fanatical worldwide consumer demand for Burgundy over the past two decades encouraged faster production methods, to the detriment of the result. The wines were thin, washed out, lacked dense flavors, as once was found in “old” Burgundy.

Hanson was ruthless. The book sold well among Burgundy lovers of my acquaintance, and many of them (especially a San Francisco resident and longtime friend) merely shook their heads and said, “I knew there was something wrong.”

Legendary Wines of 1969

Burgundy, we all knew, was not as it had been. There are those who will tell you that 1969 was the last great year in Burgundy--a great vintage as well as the last time the broad spectrum of producers made wine the old-fashioned way: they earned it by time-consuming and time-honored--and costly--methods known to work. The ‘69s were great wines, still are.

With the heralding of the supposedly greater-than-all-others 1985 vintage wines from Burgundy, I have been asked the question over and over: Is 1985 the greatest Burgundy vintage ever? My initial answer was: Potentially, I suppose. It was certainly a great vintage, and the wines taste pretty good.

But greatest ever? Or comparable to the best? Only severe analysis and time will tell.

Jean-Michel Ricard was in Los Angeles the other day. He is a vice president of Antonin Rodet, a Burgundy house that frankly hit a slippery spot in the road a few years back, with its wines skidding all over the street.

For various (and unconnected) reasons, Rodet’s wines were unimpressive for more than a decade, and by the time Hanson’s book came out, the Rodet wines were in decline, appearing to be a victim of all Hanson warned about.

Changes in House of Rodet

Ricard admitted the other day that, yes, Rodet’s wine were not all they might have been during a period of years in the past. He declined to state a specific reason, but he did note that Bertrand Devillard, son-in-law of the Marquis de Jouennes, the owner of the house of Rodet, made a major decision in 1981 to upgrade the quality of the wines.

One step was to discard a huge number of the old barrels in which the winery aged the wine; new barrels came in. Also, the family reduced the amount of wine it made to concentrate on quality, and it reached agreement to develop and market the wines of Jacques Prieur, a producer of top-quality wines based in Meursault.

Rodet’s wines always have been fairly priced, and one reason is that the property is located in Mercurey, a region not accorded as much fanfare as the better-known regions of Burgundy.

“Mercurey does not have the fame,” said Ricard, pointing to wines with names like Rully and Chateau de Chamirey and noting that they aren’t household names in many wine shops. And Rodet Mercurey (about $15) is a good value these days.

Comeback for Burgundy?

Tasting just a few of the Rodet and Prieur wines, I got the impression that they were finely made and certainly worth the money. One impressive effort was the 1986 Chateau de Chamirey ($20), the estate property’s wine from Mercurey, which was a round, flavorful red wine that was toasty and warm, with a lean and delicate finish. Not a wine to age for a long time, but elegant and approachable.

Better still was 1985 Pommard Rodet ($32), a powerful, spicy wine with ample fruit and great potential to age.

In a lighter but very appealing style was the 1986 Beaune Clos de la Feguiine from Prieur ($30), a most seductive wine with wonderful richness in a lighter body.

Toward the end of our meal, Ricard pulled out an older wine, a 1964 Rodet, and we sipped. It was wonderfully elegant, decadent and a delight with cheeses. But when I went back to the young Beaune and Pommard, I noted that both were improving in the glass, an indication they had much time to improve.

And I felt the ‘86s were better made than the ’64 had been. Whether Burgundy was coming back may still be open to question, but Rodet surely is.

A few days later, at the Cloistered Wine Classic at Sea Island, Ga., I was on a panel that was asked to evaluate six 1985 Burgundies. The general question for us was one I’ve heard before, about the supposed greatness of the ‘85s: how great?

The best wine in the estimation of the 75 wine lovers assembled was the Corton Grancey from Louis Latour (about $75). It was deeply colored, densely packed with very ripe fruit and certainly was not a delicate wine.

But the favorite of the panel members (Dan Wright and Frank Stone of Atlanta, Kevin Zraly of Windows on the World in New York and I) was the Pommard Clos de Platiere from Prince de Merode ($24). Lighter in color and body but amply flavored with a hint of clove/spice and a lush, warm taste that only great Burgundy can provide.

Other wines that impressed all of us included the Nuits-St.-George de Gramont “Les Hauts Prulieres” ($35) and the late-blooming Echezeaux from Mongeard-Mugneret ($45), which appeared to grow impressively in the glass.

World Thirsts for Good Vintage

Discussion of the phenomenon of the 1985s centered on the question of whether the producers are making wine the way they made wine before volume increased and worldwide demand allowed them to make less-dense, less-intense wines.

In discussions with collectors and merchants I have respect for, the opinion is that the Hanson book, reviled though it was, actually put its imprint on Burgundy and left a lasting message: the world desires great Burgundy, even if it has to be expensive to get it.

But another question is simply: are the 1985 wines this truly great Burgundy, or are they merely very good Burgundy from a great vintage that we are being charged a whole lot of money to get?

A hard question to answer, of course, until we see the wines a few years from now. But from my brief foray into the wines from 1985 and 1986, two very fine vintages, and from a quick look at the improving wines of Rodet and Prieur, I’m going to guess that Burgundy is on the way back to former greatness.

Our only problem now is: can we afford it?

Wine of the Week: The 1987 Chateau de Rully ($15)--Another of the Rodet wines, this is a stylishly made Chardonnay with good fruit and a delicate spice element. The texture of the wine reminds me of a cross between a Puligny-Montrachet and a Chablis, with a slight chalkiness in the finish. Given the high prices for white Burgundy these days, this is good value. Rully (pronounced roo-yee) is a region of Burgundy that’s not as well regarded for wine as others but which can make some splendid wines.