My Man(saucy) Love Affair with Marcillac and Gaillac

Sometimes there are just certain wine regions or grapes that just hit all the right notes for you.  For many collectors, this means Burgundy or Barolo, but as someone who is not quite in that tax bracket yet, I have to turn to other regions. Believe me, I still love and drink my fair share of Barolo, Barbaresco and Burgundy, it's just not an everyday kinda thing. In the past couple years, there have been many regions that do this for me, particularly the Jura, Savoie, Valle d'Aoste, and Loire Valley. What attracts me to certain regions like these are that they have distinctive native grapes that are rarely (if ever) grown elsewhere, and the wines taste of the place--like they could not come from anywhere else. Having discovered and been introduced to many regions that fit this bill for me, it's still always exciting to add new regions to that list. Of late, that new region has been Gaillac and Marcillac in southwestern France.

I'll admit that for a long while I had sort of lumped Gaillac and Marcillac together with other southwestrn French appellations like Cahors and Madiran, which are often (though not always) too big and burly for my tastes. But boy has that changed in the last six months or so. It all began with the wines from Causse Marines. Those bottles with little clowns on the labels were not fooling around--there was magic in those bottles.

The 2009 Causse Marines Gaillac Rouge is meaty, herbal, dark and smooth. Just a totally different flavor and taste than I had come to expect from southwest France. It's a blend of Braucal (also known as Fer Servadou), Duras, Prunelart, Alicante Bouchet and Syrah, all farmed biodynamically. This wine made me sit up and take notice, inspiring me to explore. And explore I did!

I have since had the 2008 Gaillac from Causse Marines, which I think I slightly prefer--a little lighter on it's feet (not as warm a vintage as 2009), slightly more angular (in a good way for me). I then tracked down a bottle of the 2009 Causse Marines Marcillac, where the grape known in Gaillac as Fer Servadou or Braucal is instead called Mansois. Confused yet? Well fret not, because what's in the bottle is almost like Chinon, only from southwest France! High-toned red fruit, with a smoked bell pepper, herbal thing that reminds me so much of Loire Cab Franc. Incredible! It's been my experience that Gaillac is slightly darker in it's fruit, Marcillac a little brighter by comparison.

The next big discovery for me was the 2009 Domaine des Costes Rouge Marcillac. Oh my god!! I could drink this wine again and again without tiring of it. For a wine retailing in the $14-$16 range, it just has so much going for it. Bright raspberry fruit, with that same smoked bell pepper, smoked paprika, herbal, earthy thing. So lively and beautiful. The domaine is currently converting to biodynamics. This wine is now sold out (fear not--the 2010 is now on Bay Area retail shelves). Had a bottle of the 2010 the other night, and though it was good, I think it needs a few more months in bottle to really come together.

Oh, but it doesn't end at Mansois and Fer Servadou. Robert and Bernard Plageoles have been making wine in Gaillac for two generations now, resuscitating forgotten native grapes. One such bottling that I love is the 2009 Plageoles Prunelart, which is a native Gaillac grape. This wine was kind of reductive upon first opening, but with some air time blossomed into a wild, fresh huckleberry beauty with a fresh rosemary and violet quality that I found seductive. Robert Camuto has a great chapter about the Plageoles in his book Corkscrewed: Adventures in the New French Wine Country. Worth a read if you want to learn more about them.

I'll finish this post with one last wine that I had at The Ten Bells wine bar in New York City upon my last trip there over New Years. The 2010 Nicolas Carmarans "L'Altre" Vin de Pays de l'Aveyron is 100% Fer Servadou, with gorgeous black and purple fruits and an underlying smoky minerality that was mesmerizing. Great wine, especially for $32 on the Ten Bells list. Sorry about the poor picture quality, but it was dark in there. Only sad thing is I don't think it makes it out to San Francisco, otherwise I would be drinking the shit out of that wine.

Hope that this convinces you to track down a bottle of Gaillac or Marcillac, if you haven't yet been seduced by it's charms. Please, if you have any favorites that I didn't mention, do tell! I hear the Domaine du Cros Marcillac is something special, but once again not available yet in SF.

Welcome

Oh New Year's, you are a lovely little mistress. The year began on a crowded Brooklyn rooftop overlooking the lights and pulsating energy of Manhattan. I was either drinking the Tissot "Indigéne" Cremant du Jura or taking swigs of Jack Daniels (or both) at the time. Upon being kissed by my best guy friend and my best girl friend, and feeling an excitement and energy I had not felt in a decent while, I knew the year was off to a kicking start.

Two thousand and eleven being kind of a tough year for me on several levels, this January I guess I got to thinking about New Year's Resolutions more than I typically do--the current mental list is already long and seemingly ever-growing. I guess this--writing a wine blog--putting my thoughts about wine down on paper...er...screen, has been something I've wanted to do for a while now and have consistently blown off. But 2012 is a New Year goddamn it, so here we go!

I know what you're thinking. It's January 31st already. I'm aware of this. Clearly I'm not off to a great start in sticking to my resolutions, but January was a busier month for me than usual, so better late than never.

You'll soon learn more about me, but for now let's keep introductions short. I'll say this...I LOVE wine. I love the way it tastes, I love the stories, the people behind it. I love that there is always more to learn, new things that surprise and inspire you. I seek out wines that have a story to tell (and while I know that every wine has a story, some stories are simply more interesting than others). I want a wine to make me sit up and take notice, rather than blending into the background--and by that I am not talking about bombastic 15% alc. California Cabernet picked at 29 brix. I like wines with energy, passion, tension. Wines with a point of view, that aren't afraid to offend.

Tonight I opened the 2007 Anne-Carole et Conrad Caloz Cornalin from Valais, Switzerland, and it was a charcoal-inflected fresh blackberry, blueberry, foresty dream. Great texture, great acid, great minerality. This is high elevation, Alpine wine from the Valais in southwestern Switzerland. The vineyards here are nearing 1,000 meters in elevation. For a wine from such high vineyards, you might expect it to be a little lighter and brighter, but the vineyards in Valais are south-facing, and therefore soak up lots of sun, plus there is the added addition of warming wind currents from the Mediterranean called fohn. I think this explains the slightly darker expression of Cornalin than the version from Grosjean in the Valle d'Aoste (a wine I am also a huge fan of). The Caloz Cornalin reminds me of wines from the Valle d'Aoste, meets Austrian Blaufrankisch, meets Mondeuse from the Savoie, or Syrah from the Ardeche, but it's a taste all it's own.

 Lastly, I'll just mention that the film Pina is a must-see. Absolutely beautiful.