Philipponnat’s 1999 and 1998 Clos des Goisses

I had the opportunity on Friday to compare several recent vintages of one of my very favorite champagnes, Philipponnat’s Clos des Goisses. Arguably the finest vineyard site in the region, the Clos des Goisses is a steep, fully south-facing slope in Mareuil-sur-Aÿ that has been owned by Philipponnat since 1935, producing an intensely minerally wine that often requires decades to reach maturity.

The current release, 1999, is surprisingly forward and fruity for a Clos des Goisses, reflecting the open, generous character of that vintage. At the same time, there’s a tension and grip on the mid-palate that still requires some time to resolve, and I would not hesitate to put this in the cellar for another ten years or more. As with many 1999s, its transformation over the aging process has been more dramatic than usual. “It was a bit disappointing in the beginning, but it’s aging very well,” says Charles Philipponnat. “It remains very pure and it has gained weight with age. I think it’s a vintage that will continue to age in a very noble way.” The saline minerality typical of the Clos is very evident on the finish, expanding with subtle, quiet grace and becoming increasingly more pronounced as the wine gains air in the glass. As with any young Clos des Goisses, I would decant this if I were drinking it now.

Due to its softer structure and more approachable fruit character, relatively speaking, the 1999 was released before the 1998, which is due to arrive in the marketplace sometime over the next few months. The 1998 is full, fragrant and complex, with creamy aromas of marzipan, tangerine peel and blanched almond. Tethered by a firm, dense structure, it feels concentrated and textural while possessing a phenomenal sense of balance and focus, staining the palate in long, vividly aromatic length. It’s already so expressive and harmonious despite being still an adolescent, and I think that the 1998, along with the 1995, will turn out to be the finest Clos des Goisses of the decade. Not to take anything away from any of the other vintages, but both the 1998 and 1995 have an extra dimension and extra bit of completeness that sets them apart. (Incidentally, there has been a Clos des Goisses produced in every single vintage since 1988, which attests to the quality of this special site.)

As good as these vintages are, Clos des Goisses promises to become even better in the future, as Charles Philipponnat continues to refine the house’s methods and winemaking. The new winery in Mareuil-sur-Aÿ, completed in 2004, has made a significant difference in the quality of the wines, as demonstrated by the last couple releases of Brut Royale Réserve — the current offering, based on the 2005 vintage, is the finest I can ever remember tasting from Philipponnat.

Yesterday, I returned to Mareuil to taste the 2007 vins clairs just before they are bottled later this week. I had tasted several components of the 2007 Clos des Goisses back in November, when it was still angular and wound-up, but now as a final blend, the wine is utterly magnificent, with detailed, elegant depth and an incredibly long and complex finish that could rival a top-class grand cru Burgundy. We won't see this again for another ten years, but I can hardly wait.

A Tasting of 1998 Champagnes

Last night a friend of mine hosted a tasting of 1998s, an appropriate theme being that we’re now ten years on. The 1998 vintage is also one that I particularly like. Pundits have never been very keen on this vintage, coming after the utterly unique 1996 and the warm, accessible 1997, and forgotten in the shadow of 1999 and 2000, vintages that I think people have wanted very badly to like because of their numeric significance. Yet the vintage does have its supporters. Charles Philipponnat thinks that it could be the best Clos des Goisses of the decade, easily better than 1996; Terry Theise once wrote, “the sheer beauty of fruit of the [1998] chardonnays is nearly beyond belief.”

The 1998 vintage was a year of extreme weather, shocking at the time but sadly all too commonplace today. March temperatures fluctuated between -8 C and 23 C (18 to 73 F); in May, records show that it was 32 C on the 13th (90 F), yet there was frost on the 23rd! It’s almost a miracle that the fruit was able to set properly, without widespread incidence of either coulure or millerandage. The July sunshine, what little there was of it, was the lowest on record for that month since 1965, while in contrast, August was the hottest on record since 1961, with temperatures up to 40 C (104 F) across the region. September was wet, averaging 60 to 70 mm of rain (2.4 to 2.75 inches) over the first fifteen days. Despite all of this, the grapes were harvested in mid- to late September with a higher than average maturity, and the average yield of 12,926 kilograms per hectare was the largest since 1983 (15,012 kg/ha).

Of the dozen 1998s that we tasted, the wines of the night, for me, were Vilmart’s Cuvée Création, Pascal Doquet’s Le Mesnil Blanc de Blancs and Franck Pascal’s Equilibre Cuvée Prestige. Sometimes I think the 1998 might be the greatest Cuvée Création ever (although I can’t wait to see the 1999). Its subtle complexity and velvety texture make it feel sophisticated and elegant, a champagne for dinner jackets and evening gowns. Doquet’s Le Mesnil showed classic Mesnil chalkiness and the vivid, vibrant energy typical of 1998 chardonnay, while Franck Pascal’s Equilibre completely charmed me with its full-bodied yet finely harmonious aromas of persimmon, dried apple and spice.

Among the wines that disappointed me were the 1998s of Deutz and Taittinger, and surprisingly, Claude Cazals’s Clos Cazals. I had tasted the 1998 Clos Cazals once before and found it complex and expressive, but last night its floral perfume was almost overpowering, and its dosage awkwardly balanced. I expect it needs some time to sort itself out.

Additional time, in fact, seemed to be the theme across the board. Many of the wines seemed a little closed and reticent, and often I noted that fruit, alcohol and dosage were not currently well integrated. One of the things that struck me while tasting these was how ripe the fruit flavors actually were in many of the 1998s, which I don’t think of as being an overly ripe vintage. Having said that, however, in many wines the fruit was currently at an awkward midpoint, having shed the puppy fat of its youth but not yet having acquired the complexity and harmony of maturity. It’s a vintage I continue to have faith in, but I’m not going to open any more bottles for a while. I think I’ll go buy some more of that Vilmart while I still can, though.

Leaves! And a Clos...

After a spell of dreary weather, it’s a splendidly balmy day here in Champagne. There’s been a lot of recent growth out in the vineyards, with leaves beginning to develop in earnest, and I took advantage of the sunshine to take a little walk in the Clos des Goisses to look at the vines and enjoy the views of the valley.

The steep, fully south-facing exposition of the Clos makes it a particularly warm site—Charles Philipponnat says that it averages 1.5 degrees (centigrade) higher than the surrounding vineyards in Mareuil. The above photo is of a relatively old pinot noir vine in Le Chalet, a particularly prime sub-parcel in the heart of the Clos; the one to the right is chardonnay, in a nearby plot to the east called Les Jolivets. Chardonnay is of course further along in its growth right now, as it buds first, and this plant demonstrates how warm the Clos really is—in the vineyards on the slope behind my house in Dizy, the chardonnay buds are only a small fraction of this size. From this alone it’s easy to see why the Clos des Goisses is such a special vineyard.

Another Evening of Clos des Goisses

I could never tire of drinking Clos des Goisses. The vertical tasting in London a few weeks ago was magnificent, but this weekend I wanted to do something slightly different: a tasting of different types of wine produced from the Clos.

The classic wine from the Clos des Goisses is, of course, a champagne made from roughly 60 percent pinot noir and 40 percent chardonnay. But in 1999, Philipponnat made the first-ever rosé champagne from the Clos, which offers a whole new perspective on this terroir. Unbeknownst to most people, Philipponnat also produces a tiny amount of still white wine from the Clos des Goisses, bottled as Coteaux Champenois. (There is also a 2004 red Coteaux Champenois mis-labeled as Clos des Goisses. This wine, however, actually comes from an adjacent vineyard called Les Remissons, which has historically been considered part of the Clos but which Philipponnat has never included in the blend for the champagne. As the quantity produced is so tiny, and is in fact not really commercially available, they can hardly be accused of misleading marketing, but if you do happen to run across a bottle of it, just remember this.)

Our tasting included all of the above wines, and it was extremely intriguing to see the same vineyard expressed in so many different fashions. As far as I know, there is no other vineyard in Champagne – or anywhere else, for that matter - that produces still wine, sparkling wine and sparkling rosé. It’s a completely novel way to look at terroir.

And yes, the Clos des Goisses rosé is stunning.

My complete notes from this evening can be found here.

A Vertical Tasting of Clos des Goisses

I was fortunate to be able to attend a tasting in London yesterday of Philipponnat’s Clos des Goisses, one of my favorite champagnes. Hosted by Tom Stevenson, this extraordinary tasting featured eleven vintages of Clos des Goisses, including not only renowned vintages such as 1990, 1976, 1964 and 1952, but also wines that demonstrate what the Clos can do in more difficult years, such as 2001 and 1951. As all of these bottles were provided directly from Philipponnat’s cellars, many of them recently disgorged and some of them even in magnum format, it was a rare opportunity. Charles Philipponnat, who was also in attendance, reminded me that it will soon become even rarer, due to the house’s dwindling stock of older vintages.

I took advantage of my London visit to indulge in a stop at Edward Green at 75 Jermyn Street and a leisurely afternoon stroll down nearby Savile Row. Would I rather have a new pair of Edward Green adelaides in antiqued burnt pine or a magnum of ’64 Clos des Goisses? Hmm. I think I’d have to take the Clos des Goisses.

My complete notes on this tasting can be found here.

[Edited 14 Dec 2007 20h27: added link to tasting notes.]