Our latest dispatch from Judi and Peter Burleigh comes from famous Champagne, is lightly effervescent, with a cheeky over-bite and
over-indulgent notes. It is also signed Peter de Liver Damage.
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Burleighs parked their cruiser, right, De Ulunder , Dutch for Butterfly , fluttered off to vineyards on an extensive study tour like politicians . French sign seems to indicate that "fluvial " tourists , not the effluvium type , are welcome to come ashore .
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The French town of Bouzy locates itself on tourist maps by
insisting it lies smack in the middle of Champagne between Reims, Epernay and
Chalon. In reality this would require a catastrophic upheaval of hills and
slopes, the re-arrangement of grape-growing classifications and the forced
re-directing of roads. What does this tell you? It tells you that Bouzy, while
able to use the title ‘Champagne’ for its wine because it is in the area defined
as ‘Champagne’, smarts under an inferiority complex.
One of the biggest producers in Bouzy is Herbert-Beaufort,
run by three brothers. Beaufort offers the Champagne tourist a tasting room made
up to look like a wine cave cut into chalk. It feels like you are inside a cake
looking out at the icing, which is plastered all over the walls and ceiling,
with fake excavation marks and genuine recessed downlights. Incongruously there
are several windows and doors in the wall of icing which lead to the outside
world.
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Disguised as Croatians , tasting begins inside iced cupcake .
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Monsieur Beaufort is packed with goodwill and he talks a lot.
It’s a surprise he can breathe and talk at the same time. His grand-daughter,
who fetches him as soon as we ask a difficult question like “If Champagne is
made from Pinot Noir grapes, which are dark red, how come Champagne is not at
least pink?” sits mesmerized by repetition as we receive the benefit of his
knowledge. We want to know why Bouzy markets a rough Pinot Noir called ‘Bouzy
Red’, unless it’s simply a product of the local sense of humour (apparently no
pun is intended in the name of the village). Surely it can only weaken the
reputation of Bouzy’s Champagne?
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| Monsieur H-B |
‘No, no,’ says the Monsieur. ‘It has been made for centuries.
You try it.’ We do. No finesse can be found in its thin astringency and it's characteristic of his Champagnes too. ‘The Celts made it,’ he claims with a straight face. ‘Wine has been made in Bouzy since 8000 B.C.’ Skipping a few
thousand years, he continues: ‘When the Romans came – we have found many relics
– the water supplies were polluted. Their soldiers got sick. So they sterilised
the water with local wine.’
I am prepared to believe this claim, but the Roman soldiers
were more likely vulnerable to low-flying aircraft. Statistically, you’re more
likely to be killed by a champagne cork than by a poisonous spider. He charges on: ‘This kept the soldiers’ bowels under control
and the Roman Army outlasted the Gauls, who had to drink the unsound water.’ He
doesn’t use the English word ‘squitters’ but we know what he means. ‘In bad
seasons they also gave their horses and animals water mixed with wine…so Bouzy
helped the Romans to victory. After that the Romans nearly always mixed their
wine with water.’ He didn’t want to acknowledge that the water may have softened
the taste of the wine.
DRUNKEN STUDENTS,MARIE ANTOINETTE'S BREAST
As Monsieur Herbert’s fountain of questionable wine-associated
knowledge continues to spout, I wonder if any of it has reached the internet.
Later I find an anecdote about Dublin’s Trinity
College, where any student has the right to demand a glass of wine during an
exam. To qualify they must be wearing a sword. Under this arcane law, armed,
stressed-out, sleep-deprived students can get their alcohol fixes during an
exam. Herbert doesn’t claim this story, or any of the others I
found on Google.
Perhaps the
most famous law that haunts the world of wine is a 1954 decree stating that no
flying saucers may fly over, take off from, or land on the vineyards of
Châteauneuf-du-Pape. This is designed to repel the fleets
of grenache-loving Martians who have screaming kids in their saucer’s backseat
and who need a calming taste of the grape. It seems to work.
‘…ten thousand years
ago,” says Monsieur Herbert, increasing his volume to stop our attention
wandering, “a glacier filled the Manche (the English Channel). It prevented the
wine trade between England and France. So England began to import wine from
Portugal. It was rough and unpalatable so the English added Spirits to it - and
liked it. So it was the English invented Port.”
There is no hint of a pause before he goes on at top speed:
“Also in England, the King needed all the oak wood to build ships for Le Navy
Royale which was fighting against Napoleon. The King forbade the use of timber
to melt silica to make glass, so the English began to use coal, which burns at a
higher temperature, for bottle-making. They brought in glass-blowers from
Venice. This glass had a higher resistance to pressure and in this way the
Champagne bottle was invented.” This may have been true. There is about 90 pounds per square inch of
pressure in a bottle of Champagne - more than triple the pressure in a car tyre.
Far more interesting, the classic Champagne coupe
was adapted from a wax mould of the breast of Marie Antoinette and until 1850,
all Champagne was sweet and contained up to 30 grams of sugar; today it’s
between 8 and 11 grams.
But my reverie is disturbed by a change in the
drone of Monsieur’s voice. Those of us who are
not yet cross-eyed with ennui perk up when he appears to enter the last
straight. “In the 1800’s Champagne became really popular in Germany and England.
Local families in Bouzy and all over Champagne became rich overnight.” He sighs
as if remembering something one of the earlier Beaufort generations had done
wrong. “They made unwise decisions.” Presumably they invested in the Edsel,
‘sure things’ at Longchamps or several Brooklyn Bridges. He seems to shrink
under the weight of insufficient riches and his eyes wander over the line-up of
his wines on the counter. But it’s too late – we have tasted them and they
reflect his style: a little sad, a little overblown and a little bitter. We
wonder which of the Herbert Brothers he is, Henry, Hugues, or
Ludovic.
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Burleigh suggests vats are eagerly cleaned out by tongue.
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The French sell more
than 300 million bottles of Champagne every year. The Beauforts have been in
Bouzy since 1820 and now produce 140,000 bottles annually, or .00000033% of the
national total. They operate independently from the great Houses like Moet,
Perrier-Jouet, Mumm and the others. There are many like them, and all are
passionately involved in the exacting work of making good champagne. Like the
Beauforts they are friendly and welcoming, and their wine is not expensive
bought at the cellar door. In any search for perfection, success is
elusive.
