Life happens.

For better or worse.

I always think of food and wine as being embedded in the fabric of life. No matter what is going on, you have to eat, and if dinner is happening there is probably a bottle at our table. Bacchus-loving, epicurean, bon vivant that I am, I try to create as many of the “for better” situations as possible. Even if it’s just a quiet evening at home with Greg, I want dinner to be GOOD. It only goes up from there–dinners with friends, celebrations, holidays. So many of the good times in life revolve around the table.

Lately, however, I’ve been reminded (a little too often for comfort, actually) that there’s another half to that equation. Nonetheless, when those “or worse” moments roll around, the table is still there. You still gotta eat. If I gotta eat, well . . .  there’s still probably something in the glass, and yeah maybe it’s doing double-duty as a nerve-elixir. At these times, the table is probably even more important. It’s where we go to take comfort with family and friends, to nurture ourselves, to stay sane.

This isn’t the post I intended to write. I love Cru Beaujolais. I was really excited when the French Winophiles picked this topic for the month–it is Beaujolais Nouveau week after all! Beaujolais wines are go-to’s for us both at home and when we’re dining out because their really food friendly and tend to be affordable. (I covered a few others here.) I love their mix of fruit, herbs, and earth. They pair easily with a million things.

As luck would have it, I was sent some samples of three different Crus by Stéphane Aviron, a producer whose wines I’ve often purchased. Moreover, they were all from 2015, which was a really great one in Beaujo. I’d planned to taste two of the Crus–Fleurie and Chénas–and then write a recipe pairing for one of them, as per usual. Since I’m more familiar with the third Cru–Morgon–I intended to put it away for a bit to see how it developed.

It all started out as usual. Greg and I sat down to taste and take notes on the wines on a Thursday. I stored the wines in the fridge for the next day. I went shopping and bought everything we’d need for dinner the next night.

The thing about emergency situations, though, is that they really don’t give a shit about what you have planned. Just as I was getting things started for dinner on Friday, my brother called. My dad had had a really serious heart attack. We had to get a flight right away. Greg got on the phone to find us a flight, while I stared blankly at the wall paralyzed for ten minutes, and then struggled to think clearly enough to figure out what normally goes in suitcases.

These wines got caught in the middle, like friends pulled into an awkward situation. In a strange way, each ended up being there for me at various points of a difficult time:

•    The Fleurie was the wine I sipped (ok, gulped) to calm my nerves while waiting for it to be time to go to the airport to catch a flight I didn’t know I was taking an hour earlier. It was still cold from the fridge and not half bad with a chill, even if I wasn’t thinking clearly.

•    The Chénas was the wine I drank the night I first got back, nerves frayed but relieved that my dad was doing much better. I was on my own as Greg had to head directly out on a work trip. The wine was still waiting for me in the fridge (I let this one come up to temp), albeit a little oxidized after a week–but hey, it was there to keep me company.

•    We drank the Morgon our first night both back home together. The wine I had not intended to open just yet, became the wine we drank with the dinner we’d planned to have over a week before. Plans change! (Somehow, most of the produce was fine and I’d thrown the pork in the freezer.) My dad was now doing MUCH, much, much better. This dinner was a thankful celebration of a return to blissful normalcy.

There were several other wines that played a role at gatherings at our family dinners while away as well. Each time we sat down together he was doing a little bit better, so we all could connect and let a little more tension go. Each dinner since that first scary night has been part of an early Thanksgiving, and these wines have all played a part in that for me.

THE WINES AND THE GEEKY DETAILS

Beaujolais Nouveau gets the big party every year (the third Thursday in November), but as far as I’m concerned, the Crus are where it’s at. The Nouveau wines are wines made shortly after the harvest. They’re easy drinking and fruity and made to be consumed young. They rely on a technique called carbonic maceration that extracts a lot of flavor and color without taking out much tannin. They tend to have a candied, bubble gum, tutti-frutti vibe going on. The only problem is that these wines don’t really age well and you lose complexity in the process.

If you look for Beaujolais (sans the Nouveau) and Beaujolais Villages, you move a couple rungs up the quality ladder. Next step up are Crus. These wine come from ten different communes whose wines are so distinctive that they’ve earned their own appellations. You probably won’t even see Beaujolais on the label, so they’re worth knowing. They are: Brouilly, Chénas, Chiroubles, Côte de Brouilly, Fleurie, Juliénas, Morgon, Moulin-à-Vent, Régnié and Saint-Amour.

All the red wines of Beaujolais are made from Gamay, but the difference in flavor between Nouveau wines and the Crus can be a world apart. As you move up the ladder, you’re likely to find less use of carbonic (or semi-carbonic) maceration. The winemaking style will look more like Burgundy with barrel-maturation and bottle aging. (Beaujo is often lumped in with Burgundy for administrative purposes, but it’s really different in terms of terrain, not to mention the grape.) That tends to mean more earthy and terroir-driven flavors. Nonetheless, Gamay will usually have lots of tart red fruits, herbs and flowers, bright acidity, moderate alcohol, and only moderate tannins even at the Cru levels. All of this makes them extremely versatile food wines. They’re particularly perfect when you need a wine to go with many different dishes  . . . hint, hint Thanksgiving!

Today’s wines are from Stéphane Aviron, a small négociant that really focuses on highlighting the Crus. Aviron grew up in Beaujolais and relies on his relationship with growers of the best sites to create expressive wines that can age. All the wines are sourced from sustainably farmed sites, and quite a few of the plots are farmed through organic or biodynamic practices. All of today’s wines are labeled “Vieilles Vignes,” as all vines are at least 40 years old.

Fleurie Domaine de la Madrière Vieilles Vignes 2015

Like the name implies, Fleurie is known for having a pretty floral fragrance and this one definitely had that going on. However, it was otherwise being really shy, which I found a little surprising given that 2015 was such a good vintage. In my limited experience, wines from that vintage are usually more generous.

Despite the fact that it was playing hard to get, I got notes of red fruits, black cherries, a little blackberry, and a little Welch’s grape juice on the nose. Notes of white peppers and stones joined in on the palate. The fruit was more decidedly in the red camp on the palate as well; it reminded Greg of Red Vines. It was clean and fresh with bright acidity. It was on the lighter end of the spectrum, with very light (medium -) tannins and did well with a chill.


Terroir: The grapes for this wine are sourced from a family owned hillside vineyard on the western side of the appellation. Exposure faces south and southeast. Farming: Biodynamic
Soil: Clay, limestone
Alcohol: 13.5%
Vinification: Grapes are handpicked and sorted upon arrival to the winery. Must is macerated in stainless steel vats for 12-15 days.
Maturation: Wine is aged in a combination of new and old barriques for 12-15 months.
Average Price on Wine Searcher: $21



Chénas Vieille Vignes 2015

I wasn’t that familiar with Chénas, but apparently that’s not surprising as it turns out that it’s pretty rare. In 2011, the vineyard area was down to 243 ha/600 acres and not a lot of examples are exported to the U.S.

We really enjoyed this wine. It had notes of black cherries, bruised raspberries, and a little grape on the nose. It was deeper on the palate than the Fleurie, with red plums and more red fruits joining the mix, along with a little pepper and mixed herbs. There was also a lot more minerality on this wine. It registered as notes of clay and iron. Apparently, that mineral intensity is typical of this Cru. This was still lithe and medium bodied on palate with plenty of freshness.



Terroir: Produced from pre-phylloxera vines that average over 100 years old from a 13.6 acre parcel that Stéphan Aviron has been producing from since 1993.
The soil is light and made up mostly of sand and small pebbles over a layer of clay and quartz. The old vines and poor soils combine for incredibly low yields and highly concentrated grapes.
Farming: Biodynamic
Soil: Sand, clay, quartz pebbles
Alcohol: 13.5%
Vinification: Vinified using traditional methods, with absolutely no carbonic maceration. The must is macerated for 12-14 days prior in temperature controlled stainless steel vats.
Maturation: Aged for 12 months in a combination of 1 to 4 year old oak barrels.
Average Price on Wine Searcher: $18. I think this is a solid House Wine, if you can find it.

Morgon Côte du Py Vielles Vignes 2015

Morgon is famed for being one of the boldest and most structured Crus, along with Moulin-à-Vent, and the wines have the ability to age well. According to Jancis, “the appellation has even been used as a verb, as in describing the process by which a young Beaujolais becomes more like a Pinot Noir-dominated red burgundy with time in bottle: il morgonne.” The good news for U.S. drinkers is that this Cru is fairly easy to find here, and there are quite a few good producers working in the area. There are six named vineyards in Morgon and Côte du Py, an ex-volcano, is the most famous.

True to type, this was definitely the most structured and layered of the three wines. We picked up a host of red fruits, as well as some darker notes: black cherries, pomegranates, raspberries, and persimmons. There were hints of star anise and thyme on the palate, as well as pepper, lavender, violets, and a pleasant bitter note on the finish. It was bright with lots of minerality–stones and pencil lead–and light, dusty tannins.



Terroir: The grapes are sourced from the slopes of an 1150-foot inactive volcano that is regarded as one of the top terroirs in all of Beaujolais. Vines face due south on a well pitched hillside of pour sandy soil. Can be aged as much as 10 years.
Farming: Biodynamic
Soil: Sand
Alcohol: 13.5%
Vinification: Grapes are vinified separately until time for the final blending and bottling. The must is macerated in temperature controlled stainless steel vats for 12-15 days.
Maturation: Info says it’s aged for 1 “months” in combo of new and used oak casks. I think that’s a typo give the structure of the wine.
Average Price on Wine Searcher: $21. This one's a really Solid Value.

Note: As I previously mentioned, these three wines were provided as samples, but all opinions are my own. All of the technical details here are taken from Frederick Wildman’s website, and you can find more details there.

THE PAIRING

We originally decided to plan this dish around the Chénas. We thought it would be perfect with the lighter end of the fall flavor spectrum–cranberries, pomegranate seeds, lightly sweetened nuts, and herbs. Seeing as Thanksgiving is so close, I originally wanted to create a turkey dish to pair with this wine. However, by the same token, turkey cuts other than the whole bird seem to be hard to find at the moment. Therefore, we decided on a pork tenderloin.

I really love my sous vide circulator and I find it particularly useful for cuts that are easy to overcook like pork tenderloin. Cuts like these become pretty foolproof in the circulator and always come out sooo tender and juicy! You can also hit medium-rare on pork without any safety concerns.

Alongside the pork, I planned a farro salad incorporating a lot of those light fall flavors. Since I thought the wine could handle a little bitterness, I finished things off with simple braised endives–you can find the recipe at The Spruce.

As I shared with you above, some pretty big hurdles got in the way, so we ended up having the dish with the Morgon Côte du Py. It worked really well with the pork and the pan sauce I made to go with it, showing the white pepper and herbal notes. It also made a solid pairing for the rest of the food, and it was able to handle the bitterness of the endive decently well. That said I do think that the Morgon could stand up to some bigger and meatier flavors.

I still think the comparatively lighter Chénas would have made an even more seamless match. After all, it was the wine I was creating this dish for. (I did actually try a little bit of the Chénas that was leftover with the food. Even though it was oxidized by that point, it seemed like it would have been great.) But hey, we were definitely rolling with some major punches here.