Domaine de Bellevue (Jérôme Bretaudeau), Muscadet, Clos des Bouquinardières, 2019
Jérôme Bretaudeau represents two trends of the last decade plus: the rise of the nervy, crystalline whites; and that of the prodigal sons and daughters of venerable estates in the classic wine areas injecting vitality and new ideas, while still preserving the integrity of their heritage.
Well, this wine does drive both points home. Muscadet, in all the permutations of the appellation that a foreigner has no way of deciphering, is made of Melon de Bourgogne, which, as Wikipedia slyly tells us "originated in Burgundy and was grown there until its destruction was ordered in the early 18th century." A somewhat drastic measure. To me, it always smells and tastes as though the DNA of Chardonnay was wrapped around melons instead of apples. Like Chablis, it has a typical musk of chalk and sea that makes an immediate impression that is easy to get, which is maybe the reason Muscadet has been fashionable among hipsters who liked Chablis but wanted something user-friendly yet trendier.
Just a bit about Bretaudeau himself before I continue with the wine. The importer brochure tells me that he led a fairly mundane life as a worker in a local winery until took over his father's domaine in 2005, at which point he started defying any expectations his previous life may have set. A single bottle can't really confirm the praises the importer lavishes, but I love it. The Clos des Bouquinardières, to me, mixes precision with looseness, nuances with charming bursts of disarray. Drinking it, experiencing it becoming clearer and purer in time, I envision Jérôme as a sculptor who keeps his workplace clean but works with the blemishes of the marble rather than try and hide them. I think it's a year or two at least from its peak.
The wine needs to be drunk in whatever stemware you prefer for a white Bourgogne.
Comments