Serious Sancerre
By Peter Gibson

Sauvignon Blanc seems to divide the opinions of many wine drinkers.

I have friends who openly dislike the grape. They claim to find objectionable its green, herbal character, its suggestions of tart gooseberries, or its searing, citric acidity. They can delight in the leanest, meanest Chablis or Muscadet, savor the tobacco-tinged, herbal nature of a young Chinon, and relish the fierce acidity of a young Savenniéres, but when it comes to the Sauvignon Blancs of the east-central Loire Valley, they nurse their glass and wait patiently for the evening’s next selection. Sure they can taste it objectively and professionally, but when it comes down to choosing a white wine for their table, it is never – and I mean never – a Sauvignon Blanc.

Quite honestly, I don’t know whether to pity them or to thank them. For once I am not a contrarian: I join the majority and thoroughly enjoy the character of a good Sauvignon Blanc. Good Sauvignon (the French rarely append the word blanc in reference to this grape) to me must be crisp and racy and pair well with fresh goat cheeses and briny oysters. It must not be marred by obtrusive oak, or be obviously sweet, or project overt tropical fruit flavors. Most of all, it must be refreshing and palate cleansing.

My Sauvignon-averse friends have the right to assert that one of Sauvignon’s failings as a so-called serious wine is its general inability to age and improve beyond its first half-decade. But I ponder again, as I did in the “Rosé Reborn” Special Focus (July 2005), whether a wine is required to repay ageing in order to be taken seriously. In the case of Sauvignon, I answer the question succinctly: to me a “serious” wine is one that works at my dinner table and complements the dinner I prepare. This is where Sauvignon shines.

Sauvignon Blanc: A Useful Wine

Unlike Chardonnay or Viognier, Sauvignon is first and foremost a useful wine. It’s the perfect choice at restaurants, especially those that mark a premium on buttery Chardonnays that have been awarded big points in the major journals. “Grand” Chardonnays not only deplete the billfold, but also fail to match most cuisines. Crisp Sauvignon fermented in stainless steel or neutral oak is the call, not only for its affordable price but also its versatility with cheeses, seafood and vegetarian dishes. I find that it also drinks well all by itself.

In addition, Sauvignon gets my nod as the most compelling white grape variety transplanted to the New World. The best examples from Marlborough in New Zealand and the Russian River Valley in Sonoma can be terrific. And while I’m frequently delighted with the progress and acceptance of Sauvignons from the New World, I still feel that the varietal reaches its apogee on the complex limestone, chalk, flint and quartz inflected soils of the east-central Loire Valley. Here exist the world famous appellations of Pouilly-Fumé and Sancerre, plus the up-and-coming names, Menetou-Salon, Quincy and Reuilly.

Pouilly-Fumé has perhaps the more recognized name, thanks to the efforts of Didier Dagueneau and the genius at Robert Mondavi who invented the name “Fumé Blanc” as a marketing tool to sell wine that languished previously as Sauvignon Blanc. While Pouilly-Fumé is indeed one of the great Sauvignon appellations, my Sauvignon dollar more often heads across the river to Sancerre, where I find the wines to be zippier, zestier, more floral, and their expressions more varied.

As in most fine regions, Sancerre’s best domaines are leading a quality revolution. They aim to exploit the region’s special terriors by farming organically, keeping old vines, lowering yields and promoting the steepest and finest hillside vineyard sites. The most conscientious vignerons also insist on manual harvesting and elévage in old, neutral oak barrels. These philosophies and techniques yield wines of optimal ripeness, greater intensity and a sense of craftsmanship lacking in the region’s basic wines. One now also finds a number of the best producers labeling their bottles with one of Sancerre’s special soil types or one of its most celebrated crus.

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In addition, I encourage you to try Neveu’s superb 2004 Sancerre rosé made from Pinot Noir. Rosés from Pinot often try too hard to be complex and end up being far too ponderous for their own good. Neveu’s rosé manages the difficult balance of offering simple pleasure and refreshment while also expressing a special terroir. It can be enjoyed effortlessly for both.

2004 André Neveu Sancerre Le Grand Fricambault “Silex” 17.99/192.50 **

As mentioned above, Silex refers to stony soils featuring a special outcropping of flint. Sancerre lovers relish the silex’s powerful minerally, gunflint aromas and firm, stony, smoky fruit expressions. The Grand Fricambault’s color is a very pale straw, and the wine opens to reveal grassy, smoky melon fruit with an intriguing undertone of vanilla bean. The wine’s attack shows juicy lemon fruit infused with the gunflint minerals of the silex soil. The mid-palate is suave and svelte with notes of hay, gooseberries and melon. The wine’s finish is crisp and crystalline with hints of candied lemon, minerals and smoke.

While this may be the lightest and the leanest of the three offerings, it is certainly the most classic in style and the kind most likely to bring smiles and fond memories to those who have sampled Sancerre in France’s many fine bistros.

2004 André Neveu Sancerre Le Manoir Vieilles Vignes 23.99/256.50 **

The next step up in the Neveu’s portfolio hails from old vines (vieilles vignes) grown mid-slope on Kimmeridgean clay-limestone soils. The Manoir is more reserved aromatically than Neveu’s Fricambault, but it is much more powerful on the palate. The old-vine sappiness gives both the impression of intense acidity and resinous, tactile fruit. There’s less Sauvignon “grassiness” here and more lemony fruit. The limestone mineral expression arrives mid-palate and seems to be suffused with lemon oil and resin. The clean gripping finish is longer and more intense that the Fricambault and leaves the impression that the wine is riper and richer, yet less candied. This is terrific Sancerre that takes Sauvignon into a new realm of ripeness and sappiness, yet never loses sight of its limestone origins.

2004 Pascal Cotat Chavignol Les Monts Damnés 44.99/480.00 **

The Cotat family is perhaps the appellation’s most heralded. They championed low yields, late, manual harvesting, neutral barrel fermentation and natural bottling long before the region became a sensation. Les Monts Damnés (“the damned mountains”) is a steep vineyard in Chavignol based on the terres blanches soil type of Kimmeridgean clay-limestone. Cotat has always taken Sancerre to its extremes, and this vintage is no different.

The Monts Damnés’ color is a much deeper gold the two above, and the aromatic fruit profile leans more to melons and quince than to grass and citrus fruits. The palate is far thicker and more intense: its massive concentration is the product of extremely low yields, old vines and late harvesting. In the center of the wine’s fruit expression is a limestone mineral core deeper and more intense than any save the grands crus of Chablis. On the back-palate a hint of pineapple and tropical fruits emerge that leads me to believe that a portion of the harvest was nobly affected by botrytis. The Cotat’s long finish revisits the themes of intense ripe fruit, head-spinning acidity, smoke and minerals. Most of all this is a wine of volume, a theoretical fusion of New World sensibilities transported to a very special Old World terroir. Cotat’s Sancerres are known to repay ageing, and I believe this one will resolve and gain complexity for a good seven to nine years.