Moving Away from Stainless Steel

Nearly ten years ago when he was first starting out, David Leclapart told me that he didn’t want any stainless steel in his cellar because the process of its manufacture creates a negative electromagnetic energy that affects the wines. (Leclapart ferments his champagnes in used barrels from Domaine Leflaive and blends them in an old steel tank that looks like a relic from World War I.)

This week in the Loire, I thought about this while visiting several cellars where growers expressed an aversion to stainless steel. (Admittedly, this has a lot to do with the sort of producers I choose to visit.) Fabrice Gasnier, in Cravant-les-Coteaux, makes pure and delicious Chinon from biodynamically-grown vines, fermented in large, unlined cement vats that his father built in the early 1970s. Gasnier doesn’t like stainless as it’s too reductive, noting that the porosity of cement allows for a slow, controlled oxygenation.



Bernard Baudry, arguably Chinon’s finest producer, also praises the virtues of cement. In 2005 he installed some unlined cement vats for fermentation, and has been so pleased with the results that he is now in the process of replacing all of his stainless steel with cement. Currently, his Chinon Les Granges is still vinified in stainless steel, although he ages it in cement for four to five months, and the other cuvées are all fermented in cement before being put into barrel for aging.

But perhaps Leclapart is right: beyond tradition, beyond character, beyond technical reasons for preferring other materials, there could be a property of stainless steel that inspires a negative reaction, however subtle. In Bourgueil, Yannick Amirault has recently built a new cellar where one wall is lined with stainless steel vats, which he uses to ferment his St-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil La Source and Bourgueil La Coudraye, and the other with a few cement tanks and large, conical wooden vats for fermenting the other wines. The cellar is very spacious, with plenty of room to maneuver, but Amirault admits to a subconscious gravitational tendency. “I always walk on this side of the room,” he says, indicating the side with the wooden vats, “and I never really want to walk on the other side. There’s something about the stainless steel tanks that feels very cold.”

Joly’s Clos de la Coulée de Serrant

Excessive doesn’t even begin to describe our behavior this weekend. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk more wine in a 60-hour period, especially of this caliber. With anything from DRC to Raveneau to Huet to Salon to Marcarini, I think we managed to hit most of the major food groups. We took a break on Friday during a terrific morning of old white Burgundy to drink a small flight of Savennières from the Clos de la Coulée de Serrant.


Few wines are as polarizing today as Nicolas Joly’s Savennières. The 2002 brought up the usual discussion of oxidation in Joly’s current style of winemaking—this bottle was downright poor, feeling metallic, oxidative, alcoholic and clumsy. I’ve defended this wine in the past, and it's possible that another bottle might show better. For me, however, this was extremely disappointing. It was especially shocking in direct comparison with wines from the previous era, as today’s wines in no way resemble the wines of the past.

The pairing of 1986 and 1987 served as a wonderful example of this, with the former showing a sleekly luscious, waxy depth of fruit and the latter feeling like a distillation of pure minerality, its fruit existing solely as a vehicle for transmission of terroir. This is how Savennières should be: complex, refined, harmonious, dazzlingly soil-expressive, and above all, showing an impeccable balance. Even more regal was a spectacular bottle of 1961, its complex layers of flavor ranging from dried apricot to blanched almond to chestnut honey, all infused by a hauntingly fragrant minerality. Very few wines in the world can finish with such incredible length and detail as this one did. Will the wines of today turn out anywhere close to this? Personally, I don’t think so. What’s your opinion?

François Chidaine, Montlouis-sur-Loire

François Chidaine is one of my favorite winemakers in the world. There are times when I can imagine drinking only his wines for the rest of my life. But then I suppose I need Champagne.

I managed to taste the 2007 barrel samples twice in the past week: once at the Salon and once at the estate. Many of them are still in fermentation, but it promises to be an excellent collection for Chidaine, more consistent and higher in acidity than the tricky 2006 vintage (although I like his ’06s very much, especially the Clos du Breuil, Clos Baudoin and Le Bouchet) and more classically balanced than the rich, ripe 2005s (as magnificent as those are).

Sometimes people get confused by the large array of wines, especially as Chidaine doesn’t use the designations of sec and demi-sec on the labels. However, they are actually quite consistent in character from year to year, so it’s easy to keep track of them. Here is a breakdown of Chidaine’s portfolio of wines, in the order that he generally prefers to serve them.

Vouvray Brut Pétillant non-dosé
Chidaine makes this wine by stopping the primary fermentation at 14 g/l of sugar, then bottling it with a little added yeast and fermenting it to dryness to produce a light sparkle. It’s usually a little lighter in body than the Montlouis Brut, with a strongly chalky intensity.

Montlouis Brut non-dosé
Chidaine picks his grapes for sparkling wine at about 11.5 to 12.5 degrees of potential alcohol. Like the Vouvray, he makes this wine by arresting the primary fermentation, but here it’s between 17 and 18 g/l of residual sugar, creating a slightly stronger mousse. It’s a dry, austere, intensely soil-expressive wine that never fails to excite me.

Montlouis Les Bournais
Les Bournais is a newly planted site overlooking the Loire river. It had been abandoned for some time, but Chidaine believes that this is one of the very best sites in Montlouis, and planted vines here in 1999. Unlike most of Montlouis, which is on clay and silex, or flint, Bournais lies on clay and limestone, and the name Bournais refers to the particular type of limestone found here. Chidaine’s goal is to vinify this dry, barring the occasional aberration such as 2005, and the result is a rich, full-bodied wine, probably the closest to Vouvray in profile of all Chidaine’s Montlouis wines.

Montlouis Clos du Breuil
Chidaine’s holdings here include several plots spread over 3.5 hectares, each varying slightly on a typical Montlouis theme of clay and silex over chalk. The vines average about 40 years of age, although the oldest ones are 80 years old, and this is always made as a dry wine (normally 2-4 g/l of sugar). It’s racy and extremely minerally, one of the classiest dry chenins of the area.

Montlouis Les Choisilles
Les Choisilles is a cuvée, usually blended from old vines in the vineyards of Les Epinais, La Taille aux Loups and Clos au Renard. It’s named after a type of black flint called (you guessed it) choisille, which you can see in Chidaine’s left hand in this photo (in his right hand is a different type of flint, called pierre à fusil). Les Choisilles is a concentrated, powerful dry wine that often needs several years to develop.

Vouvray Les Argiles
This is a blend of various plots surrounding the Clos Baudoin, including L’Espagnole, Le Haut Lieu, La Chatterie, L’Homme and La Reugnières. The clay here is deeper than in the Clos, giving a broad, rich girth to the wine. Chidaine vinifies this dry, usually around 4 g/l of residual sugar.

Vouvray Clos Baudoin
The 2.7-hectare Clos Baudoin is one of Vouvray’s legendary sites. It had previously belonged to the Prince Poniatowski, but Chidaine had rented the vines since 2002, and has owned the plot outright since the end of 2006. There are vines up to 60 years old here, but unfortunately the entire vineyard will have to be replanted due to a virus in the soil, and Chidaine has already pulled up one hectare of vines. The small amount of wine that he does make from the rest of the Clos Baudoin is sleek and fine, with noticeably more complexity and dimension than his other Vouvrays. It’s always a dry wine, as he thinks this vineyard excels at classic Vouvray sec.

Montlouis Clos Habert
The Clos Habert lies adjacent to the Clos du Breuil, on clay and a type of silex called perruches. Part of the vineyard is about 25 years old, with the rest 60-80 years old, and Chidaine uses these vines to make a tendre style of Montlouis with a lovely balance and minerality, usually around 20 g/l of residual sugar.

Montlouis Les Tuffeaux
Les Tuffeaux is a cuvée blended from 30- to 70-year old vines from various vineyards on clay and silex, including the Clos du Volagray and Saint-Martin. Like the Clos Habert, this is intended to be around 15-20 g/l of residual sugar, but it’s usually slightly richer and larger in body.

Fifty-year old vines in the Clos du Volagray

Vouvray Le Bouchet
Le Bouchet is a vineyard adjacent to the Clos Baudoin, on the same clay and chalk terroir as its other neighbor, the Clos du Bourg of Domaine Huet (in fact, the Clos du Bourg was supposedly a part of Le Bouchet many years ago). Of Chidaine’s two hectares here, half of the vines are young, with the rest 70-80 years old. The resulting wine is a rich, dense and voluptuously textured demi-sec, and Chidaine notes that aromas of white truffle and iodine are typical of Le Bouchet.

A Selection of Loire Wines (that are actually exported)

After my post about tasting sparkling wines at the Salon des Vins de Loire, brooklynguy brought to my attention the fact that none of these wines are actually available in the United States. So here are a few of my favorite wines of the past week that Americans can actually buy. (I’m not including any barrel samples or other unfinished wines. Also, if these specific vintages aren’t there yet, they will be soon.)

Particularly Superb and Delicious Wines Under $15
Jean-François Mérieau Touraine Gamay Le Bois Jacou 2006
This is one of my very favorite Loire gamays. Bright, crisp and fragrant, it just makes you want to drink more. A solid ten on the slurpability scale.

Luneau-Papin Muscadet Sèvre et Maine Clos des Allées VV 2006
I’m not a huge fan of 2006 Muscadet, but the Clos des Allées stands out for its pure fruit and crystalline minerality. As in every vintage, its soil expression is simply gorgeous.

Henry Marionnet Touraine Sauvignon 2007
Marionnet is better known for his powerful (and excellent) wines from old, ungrafted vines, but his entry-level sauvignon blanc is delicious, full of flinty, grapefruity, sweetly herbal aromas.

Wines That I Absolutely Loved, Irrespective of Price
François Chidaine Montlouis Brut non-dosé 2005
I always love Chidaine’s sparkling wines, but they can be too austere for some people. The 2005 combines a rich, full ripeness with mineral intensity, feeling rounder and more complex than usual.

Thomas-Labaille Sancerre Les Monts Damnés 2006
The ’06 vintage was a great one for sauvignon, and this is classic Monts Damnés in its sleekly racy structure and smoky, stony fragrance. Its pure expression of soil makes the fruit seem almost incidental.

Vincent Carême Vouvray Le Peu Morier 2006
Carême’s wines always feel so balanced and effortless. This demi-sec, or perhaps sec tendre, is full of sweetly ripe apricot and pear flavors, showing harmonious depth and subtle, fragrant length.

The Very Best: Utterly World-Class Wines
Damien Laureau Savennières Le Bel Ouvrage 2005
This is the greatest ’05 Savennières I have tasted (and I’ve tasted many, including those from You Know Who). It’s rich and concentrated yet thrives on a marvelous clarity and finesse, feeling energetic and tense under the ripe fruit. The finish is absolutely regal.

François Chidaine Montlouis Moelleux 2005
You’d predict this wine to be great, but this exceeded all my expectations. It’s wines like these that account for the high reputation of the ’05 vintage. Made mostly by passerillage, with only a little botrytis, this shows such subtle, layered complexity of flavor, filling the palate with seamless harmony and astonishing grace.

Dard et Ribo Crozes-Hermitage 2006
OK, I know it’s not from the Loire, but this was one of the finest wines I drank all week, so it gets included here. It’s one of those rare wines that feel truly alive, like a living organism, and its sense of purity and dimension on the palate are breathtaking. Plus, it smells like the greatest bacon you’ve ever tasted.

Unusual Sparklers

I’ve spent the last two days at the Salon des Vins de Loire, tasting many terrific wines. Although I didn’t come here with the intention of seeking out sparkling wines, several intriguing examples have crossed my path. Sparkling Savennières from the Domaine du Closel? Jean-François Mérieau’s pétillant naturel made from chenin blanc, chardonnay and pineau d’aunis, aged for 36 months on the lees? How about a gamay rosé pétillant from François Chidaine with 80 grams/litre of residual sugar? Toto, we’re not in Champagne anymore.

Those wines were all excellent, as were other, less uncommon wines. Perhaps the finest sparkler I’ve tasted in the last few days has been Vincent Carême’s chalky, racy 2006 Vouvray Brut, although coming close was Huet's 2001 Vouvray Pétillant. Another delicious wine was Domaine des Baumard’s new Brut Rosé (pictured), which possesses a rare elegance and delicacy for a sparkling wine made entirely from cabernet franc. These are never going to take the place of champagne (nor should they), but they are entirely compelling in their own right, and very, very tasty.