Wednesday 5/29
6-8 pm no reservations needed
$15 + 10% off any wine tasted

Brun Beaujolais Blanc 2022 $22
Julien Sunier Morgon 2021 $42
Hoppenot “Origines” Fleurie 2022 $25
Dubois “l’Alchimiste” Fleurie 2022 $42
Foillard Fleurie 2022 $69
Rossignol “Chavannes” Côte de Brouilly 2022 $60
I am one of those melancholic, middle-aged men with an affection for children, dogs, and trees. Scowling and bilious, until a child or dog crosses my path, and I light up. Good Beaujolais has the same effect on me, and it is the sort of wine I want to drink most days, especially in the summer, served chilled, but also in the autumn with savory, rich food, but also during the spring and winter, too. I mention food because a key to deciphering Beaujolais is to understand that it is the traditional beverage of nearby Lyon, the center of French bourgeois gastronomy, rich with a multitude of varied saucisson, tripes, where even salad served with sizzled lardon. If you ask me or often even if you do not, I will be more than happy to fill you with an earful about the wines from the appellation, what makes them tick, and why you might want to drink one or two. You may be sorry you asked, and I apologize for my gasbaggery, but how else to communicate to you the why of Beaujolais?

The northern part of the region has soils that are mostly granitic, with various shades of color due to their varied mineral composition. The wines from the north are “cru” Beaujolais, with the name of the cru displayed prominently on the label. Each cru (there are ten of them) has an ostensibly unique character, with wine from the cru of Morgon often more structured, whereas the wines from the volcanic soils of the Côte de Brouilly leaner and nervier. The primary grape here is gamay, and although farmers cultivate gamay elsewhere in France, in the Loire valley in particular, nowhere does it reach the pinnacles of expression as it does on the granite soils found here.

The granitic soils of the cru of Fleurie, from which we are tasting three wines today, often has a pink tinge to it, due to the presence of potassium. I am a bit skeptical about the effect of this factor on the wines, but it nevertheless makes a happy story to tell. The name Fleurie seemingly evokes fleur, and you might understandably think that this pertains to a floral quality of the wine, but the truth is much less poetic (legend has it that the name derives from an ancient Roman settler in the region, but this is apocryphal, and no one really knows the story behind the name).

Fleurie can be floral, but often it is not, and as you will discover tonight, the expression of Fleurie can be quite varied. We’re tasting a lithe, light bodied Fleurie from a young vigneron who is only on his fifth vintage, whole cluster fermented in neutral vat; a medium bodied Fleurie from a vigneronne raised in Champagne, but trained in Burgundy—she makes Fleurie as a Burgundian would, i.e., without carbonic maceration and with gentle punch downs; and then a Fleurie made by one of the fathers of modern natural wine, Jean Foillard.