The French Version of Juicing, Part Deux

Driving to Beaune is not so bad if you're not the one driving. Personally, I hate driving almost as much as I hate laundry. Like anything else, there are aspects to doing laundry that I don't mind, like the washing and drying bit. But the ironing, folding and putting away part? Blech! Same goes for driving: sunny day, convertible top down, no traffic, I'm okay. Anything else brings on a “double ugh” just thinking about it. What always amazes me is when someone says that they're “going out for a drive.” WHAT? Driving without a destination in mind? For no reason? That would be like me saying, “Hey, you know what? I think I'm going to put some pleats in my jeans.” You know, just for the heck of it…

Fortunately, I did not have to drive, but instead had the pleasure of sleeping for most of the three plus hours that it took to get there. (In case you were wondering, Paris is 200 miles from Burgundy.) When I did wake up and glance out my window, it was quite the view to behold.

Beauty as far as the eye could see. Hills and valleys of vineyards. And we couldn't help but notice that, even though there was sign marking entry into Beaune, it really wasn't needed. You can see the entire town in all its glory way before actually reaching it, just like when Dorothy, Toto and the rest of the gang first discovered The Emerald City of Oz. It was stunning! Mother Nature obviously spent a lot of time in the Côte-d'Or! (By the way, the trick I used when first learning the pronunciation of Côte-d'Or is this: when you walk out the door, you put your coat on. Put the two together and you get coat + door = Côte-d'Or! It may not sound the same way a Parisian would say it, but it's close enough. Another trick I still use is to imitate Inspector Clouseau anytime I try to speak French. I have found that there are lots of words that, if said with a French accent, will allow you to be understood by most of our Gallic brothers and sisters, saving you valuable time when shopping for necessities. Like razors…)

Here is my short tale of shopping woe: I stood in a Parisian pharmacy a good ten minutes trying to buy a razor. Why so long, you ask? For starters, I don't speak French, and the salesclerk could not understand what I was asking her for. Let the charades begin! There I was, like a mime, pretending to shave my face, legs and even my underarms. Finally, her eyes widened as the light bulb went off, and she said to me, “Ah, RAE ZORE!” Okay, I'm sorry, but at the risk of sounding like the obnoxious American, come on! Razor and Rae Zore? Pleeeeeze….

(It wasn't quite as bad as this scene between Tarzan and Capt Phillippe, but close...)

Brief history of the Cote d'Or and Pinot noir: The Côte-d'Or used to be a former province of Burgundy, and was created during the French Revolution. The climate is ideal for growing the temperamental Pinot, as it is oceanic with semi-continental tendencies. (In other words, it rains a lot in the fall and hardly at all in the summer.) The grape varietal Pinot noir is sensitive to wind, frost and cropping levels. (It it also low yielding for production of quality wines, which is one of the reasons why it’s expensive.) There are many other factors that contribute to the difficulty in growing this grape, such as its thin skin, which makes it more susceptible to mildew than other grape varieties. Andre Tchelistcheff declared that God made Cabernet Sauvignon, whereas the Devil made Pinot noir!

We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in Flagey-Echezeaux, situated right next door to “The Church.” (Every town has one, and they're easy to find since they’re always the tallest building.) My initial reaction was, Great! Now I won't have to worry about getting lost since the steeple was an easy spot, inside the village or out! As I pondered this thought, the church bells rang. Charming, right? Yes, at noon it's very charming, but at 7AM, it's a whole different story. The only thing missing from the scene was someone with a hump yelling, “Sanctuary!”

But by Day Two, I decided to switch my attitude and make friends with the bells. Turns out they did me a favor, waking me early enough to have a workout before another 24 hours of eating and drinking began! For the record, that was the theme of 99% of this journey. It was T.A.D. all the way! Translation: we tasted, we ate, and we drank. During that other 1% we found a stable. How happy was I? Horses and wine are two of my favorite things in life. And yes, we even rode through the vineyards. Pinch me! I was in heaven.

(Ecurie Sur Lavale - located in chevannes)

To my surprise, I preferred the food of Burgundy to that of Paris. I’m only going to mention the places I’d revisit, but that’s not to say that the others weren’t good. They were, but to me it makes sense to focus on the real winners, and of course warn you of the losers, in Burgundy. I'm happy to report that there weren't any of the latter. (I only wish I could say the same for Paree, but that’s for another chapter of this four part blog on French juicing…)

I’ll start with our bistro in Beaune called Le Gourmandin, which is located right in the heart of town. You couldn't get a better location if you tried, and the food was top notch. Great start to our arrival and it didn't hurt that Murph brought with him a bottle of '96 Grand Echezeaux, Gros Frere to toast our 1st night.

Then there was Restaurant Simon, which was right next to our B and B in Flagey-Echezeaux. (Hopefully, if you ever visit Restaurant Simon, you won’t get our server. Her energy was like someone’s who had to pee really, really badly while stuck on a very long lady’s room line. Beware!)

Day Two was also spent tasting wines at Domaine Maume in, Gevrey- Chambertin. Bertrand Maume, the proprietor was so kind to give us a tour of his facility. He shared his new releases and even some older ones as well. To top off his generosity he even gave us a couple of bottles to take with us to lunch. We left the Village of Gevrey-Chambertin and headed to the restaurant, Le Chassagne.

Le Chassagne is in the village of Chassagne-Montrachet. They had such delightful staff, and the scrumptious menu is on the top of my list for a return visit. (But there is one restaurant in particular that really stands out for reasons I will explain in my next blog.)

On Day Three we dined for lunch at Le Millésime in the village of Morey-Saint-Denis, just before we left for our tasting at Domanie Jean-Marc Bouley. I must confess that, at this point, all the food was starting to get to me and my waist-line. But I was in the trenches now and there was no turning back. Since we were going to be tasting right after our meal, I was careful not to have anything that would hinder my palate, such as coffee.

The dining room at Le Millésime was elegant, yet it was not required that the men wear a jacket... come to think of it, there was not one place we dined in Beaune where a jacket was required. How nice for my son and Murph to dine "fine" in comfort!

Once lunch was over, it was off to the vineyard. Jean-Marc Bouley makes some very sexy juice from the areas of Pommard, Volnay and Beaune, and he can trace his family of wine growers all the way back to 1527. His wines were so bright and easy to drink that I have invited both Jean-Marc and his son (whom I met in a most nontraditional fashion) to come to New York and host a tasting with me.

While we were busy tasting some of the new releases, his son was busy working, at one point in his underwear. Yes, he scurried past us, took off his pants, and then proceeded - pitchfork in hand - to climb into one of the large vats filled with recently harvested grapes. (TALK ABOUT DEDICATION!) He then shoveled the grapes, stems and all, into the de-stemmer. It’s quite the process to make wine, as you can imagine... the days of stomping are, in almost all cases, sadly gone.

Until next time,
Beaune Voyage