Burgundy is obviously one of the premier wine regions in the world, but it is quite unlike other regions such as the Loire or Bordeaux. The vineyards are small and the geography complex, prices can be high and yet just 2
grape varieties dominate - Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. So it really is a region to study to get the best from it, or glean your understanding from someone who knows their stuff.
One such is Pascal Watkins of the Wine Cave who has penned a charming piece on his discovery of, and passion for Burgundy (see below)
They stock Chassagne-Montrachet Morgeot 1er Cru 2002 from Ballot-Millot.
A Pilgrimage to Burgundy by Pascal Watkins, the Wine Cave
I’m going back to Burgundy the week before Easter, to my spirit filled place of dreams. Ever since my Dad died, it’s been a spiritual, soul colluding affair. You see his passion was infectious, his love of wine, his hunger for the vine, and the yearning had lead him home, home to Burgundy.
Sitting there, surrounded by beautiful wisteria, over looking the tranquil, carefully laid out, rows of vines, the gentle sloping aspect, the Norman church spire, a look of glee, a twinkle in his eye.
I hadn’t been working in Calais long, then working for Oddbins, when we took our first trip to Burgundy together. Thirty years of troubled tears, un-said things, muddled fears, you know how it can be between a Father and son; Yet something changed that year, a new understanding, a passion shared and for the first time ever a new friendship between father and only boy. “Look Dad! They’ve named all these villages after bottles of wine!”, the old man shakes his head with a grin. It had taken us all this time to find some common ground and who’d have believed that the ground would be some sodden earth between two rows of vines, with a wall around the field, and a gate and something called ‘Montrachet’ on the lintel. “Look Son! This is some of the most expensive real estate in the world, no forty storey tower blocks, just the soil, the elements and vitis vinifera!”
It was funny really, I’d grown up with wine on the peripheral but had never taken the time to discover. We were a catering family, father was a bit of a pub food pioneer, and I needed to find something to be passionate about. I’m easily bored and had a tendency to loose interest in the sort of jobs that I’d pursued without much success, and wine was the obvious solution. Specialising in Burgundy seemed the shrewdest of options given the wealth of knowledge available to me, and I decided to get my hands dirty one year, picking the grapes. I can remember my old man rolling around with laughter as I hobbled back to the cottage every day, with a bent back, in agony “That’s the only honest work you’ve ever done in your life Son!”, I think yes, maybe he was right, it was certainly the hardest.
I think the passion is closely linked to the soil. Every wine produced by a farmer in Burgundy is a twofold expression, an expression of the wine maker, an expression of the soil. Every year the elements fight to change that expression, with hail, mist, rain and drought; every year the wine maker fights the elements to produce the wine that is the truest expression of that piece of land, the ‘terroir’. I think this is where the spirituality comes in for me, there’s just that little thing that you can’t put your hand on, that extra something special. Maybe it’s the fact that to unsuspecting travellers a sleepy village with a leaf swept square and a hotel called The Montrachet could almost pale into insignificance were it not for the fact that countless similar sleepy archetypal rural French villages, throughout the Cote D’Or, have produced some of the greatest compliments to some of the finest banquets in Royal courts throughout history.
Going back fills me with a sense of joy, I can almost feel Dad’s spirit flying, freely over the vines, whispering comforts through the leaves, that spirit of Dionysus, that time loved, almost birth place, of my Father Denis.
Pascal Watkins - The Wine Cave