Reflections on Vintage 2023
- Alex
- Nov 14, 2023
- 14 min read
Harvest 2023 is over but the vintage doesn’t quite feel that way yet. One barrel of white is still finishing its last gram of sugar, the reds have finished malolactic while the whites are half way through.
The intensity of harvest and red vinifications may have subsided, but the constant level of attention and thought, or as we say in Chinese ‘绷紧’ , to be mentally taut, alert and at the ready, is still there.
In that way, it’s difficult to reflect on the vintage as there are still so many things happening microbiologically in the wines that elevage is just beginning in earnest.
The wines are still being formed, and will continue to form, build, grow until bottling, and even then, bottling is just another point on their journeys of continued change.
I should begin by saying that I’m extremely happy with the vintage - with the quality, intensity of expression, the energy and balance of the fruit, with how the wines taste and feel so far, how we responded to the different challenges in the weeks leading up to harvest, in the choices we made throughout.
If this growing season has been about learning how to refine our farming, to maximize soil health and amplify the individuality of our vineyard, then this year we began that same journey in the cellar as well with our first real harvest.
Harness and maximize -
From buying a press for the first time to selecting barrels for fermentation and elevage, so many of the decisions leading up to and during vintage can potentially mark the wines in ways that obfuscate, speaking more of method rather than place or aesthetic.
As we prepared for harvest the its constant hum of decisions, I tried to keep one guiding principle in the forefront of my mind. I wanted each detail, purchase and choice to serve one goal: to harness the personality and maximize the potential of our vineyard in our wines. As Jean-Marie Guffens put it so well, we are on a path to learn “how to become what you already are”.
Thinking back, I’m particularly grateful for our tiny pick in 2022, one that gave me a sense of what flavor and physiological ripeness tasted, looked and felt like in our site. That sense has grown immeasureably with another year and a much larger crop, but is still fundamentally based on that first impression I gleaned in 2022.
That sense gave me the confidence to pick totally on taste, balance and feel, as we saw physiological ripeness in both red and whites at 10% potential alcohol again this year. That our fruit ripened along the same curve between two very different growing seasons confirmed our experience in 2022, validating the choices we made in the vineyard in order to prioritize physiological ripeness. Most of all, this speaks to how unique and special our site is in a viticultural world facing increasing climate uncertainty.
As with the fruit, there was great continuity of character and expression in the fermenting musts and the pressed wine to those we made last year.
The reds are soaringly perfumed, singing of raspberries, framboise liqueur, muddled strawberries, damask rose, rose water, orange zest, blood orange, cardamom and nutmeg. They feel palpably alpine, intensely pure, crystalline and weightless, but with depth and intensity from the tiny berries, loose clusters, millerandage, and very low yields created by interaction between site, soils and vine genetics.
We fermented the reds without destemming, but without any meaningful amount of carbonic as we foot crushed a small amount as we loaded the vats to release juice, then we did one pigeage by foot every day.
It’s well known that Dujac is amongst the whole cluster OG in Burgundy, and Jeremy told me a few years ago that his father would press fully dry in most years, that is with no residual sugar emerging from whole berries/clusters at the press.
Our climate and ripeness levels are closer to those of Jacques’ era than Burgundy today, and this conversation helped disabuse me of any thought that the incredibly perfumed and ethereal nature of old Dujac and other whole cluster dominant red Burgundy has anything do with high levels of carbonic.
Having seen how the Reynauds crush all the whole cluster Grenache as they load their fermenters at Rayas, further confirmed that intracellular fermentation is not a prerequisite to amplifying the perfume, the sense of alpine lift and refining the tannin texture in our wines, the reasons I choose not to destem our fruit.
With a similar sense of alpine purity, transparency and energy to the reds, the whites have been singing of lemon oil, zest and lime juice since fermentation, and now have gained an edge of lime floral lift, as well as a nutty, hazelnut inflected, umami and reduction which combine to form some real aromatic intrigue and dimension. What excites me most is how the wines feel - pure, vibrant and palpably three dimensional with a firm, pillar-like core of chiseled, chalky density and acidity that pushes and drives the wine through the palate.
My plan is for the whites to see at least two years in barrel on their full solids and lees to polish, refine, intertwine and intensify that sense of structure and density. These will be wines with bones to carry them as they age in bottle and gain flesh.
I’m fascinated by the continuity of this years fermentation dynamics with those of last year and what it’s taught us about our microbial terroir. As we are the only vineyard (and agricultural project) in the immediate area, no systemic fungicides have ever been sprayed and our yeast population remains essentially unchanged from centuries past. Compared to my experiences in Burgundy, Australia and New Zealand, our fermentations have unusual strength and velocity, the reds start producing noticeable Co2 the day after picking and are fully dry within 7-8 days.
It’s becoming clear to me that our yeasts and our microbiology are increasingly uncommon, and are a big part of why our reds feel the way they do. From old 19th century texts, I’ve learned that native ferments in red burgundy before chemical farming were also dry with similarly short and rapid fermentations. I love that our fermentations can shine a continued light on the importance of farm with care. It’s a great reminder that winemaking and viticulture are not two separate realms, that they are endlessly intertwined. As we continue to refine our farming, a large part of our focus will be to preserve, protect and strengthen this microbiological connection with the land and the past.
Pressing is always one of the most satisfying moments of the vintage and the year as a whole.
For both reds and whites, pressing is arguably the most impactful determinant to how a wine ultimately feels. I’ve always felt that how one presses, the level of precision during pressing is a major distinguishing factor between the good and the great. Those outside the industry often speak of punchdowns or pumpovers when it comes to extraction, but it’s often pressing that is the most extractive process throughout all of red vinification.
I love working with basket presses. Our first true glimpse of the reds and their potential comes as the wine moves from the purity and perfume of the free run to the brightness, energy, breadth and depth of the press. Tasting closely here is crucial, as when this feeling of brightness moves towards the firmness of tannin, particularly bitter stem tannin, I stop. As the juice percolates slowly through the cake of skins the wine clarifies, separating naturally from the lees and solids, and the benefit of basket presses becomes evident. The crystalline purity, weightless intensity, the inherently silken tactility of our high altitude tannins are all heightened as the free run and press wine comes together for the first time.
For whites, pressing determines architecture. Everything we do leading up to fermentation is about establishing those foundations. We crush by foot before pressing, not only to liberate free run juice, but also to obtain skin and pulp particles, allowing greater volume of solids into the fermentation and more structuring dry extract inclusion into the final wine. We press slowly over the course of 4-5 hours, combining the electric precision and energy of the free run juice with the chalky musculature and breadth of the final press, all without a single rebeche.
This last detail is one big reason we choose to press in a basket press, as the frequent rebeche that is common to pneumatic presses and their automated cycles releases potassium, raises the pH with each turn, and the pressed juice can often be as much as 0.2-0.3 pH higher than the berries were at picking.
Sharing inspiration
I’ve been really fortunate to work and apprentice for special families, I learned so much about detail, intention and focus from each experience. My experiences at Dujac and Bindi were made particularly special by the generosity of each family in sharing their bottles. Hearing the stories behind each glass, their friendships with the producers and the inspiration they found in each was priceless. I learned that great producers rarely drink their own wines, and are always learning from the work of those they admire.
This culture of sharing inspiration is one I hope to build and continue at Miaolu. We shared many, many memorable and moving bottles this vintage amongst my team and visiting friends, but there are a few bottles that have stayed in my mind since and merited additional reflection.
I’ve long found inspiration from white Burgundies of the 60s/70s/80s and earlier, from the intensity and density of their chiseled structures, how the weight and viscosity gained from decades of bottle age are needed to balance the intensity of acidity and dry extract, and not the other way around. These wines are very much my North Star in how I want my whites to feel, and I’ve been waiting for the right moment to share this inspiration with my team.
I chose to show a pair of mature whites blind to show them the aging potential of white wines made in the oldest of old school ways.
67 Pierre Leger Meursault - Hazelnut oil, white truffle, blonde caramel and white button mushrooms meet the nose and it is mesmerizing. The acid is searing, the sense of which is elevated by the sheer mass of dry extract. With age and time the wine has built a subtle but generous layer of honeyed beeswax, orange zest, anoisette retronasal aromatics to gently balance the intensity of structure. Super chiseled, masses of mid palate grip.
An incredible sense of sweet umami lingers long on the palate, like baked, candied sweet potatoes from yunnan intermingling with orange zest and beeswax. Captivating.
82 Louis Michel Chablis Montée de Tonnerre - Beeswax, noisette (but less pronounced than the 67 Leger), white truffle, white truffle honey, matsutake, white button mushroom, super umami and perfumed, lemon oil. Also massively chiseled, but perhaps with just a touch less acidity than its neighbor. After 30 mins, more and more lemon oil, fresher, brighter, more layered fruit, grilled nuts, mushroom umami. Just gaining in breadth and depth with each passing minute. Lemon zest creme fraiche, lemon butter, brown butter and hazelnut oil. This is incredible and none of us can put the glass down.
What really struck me about the two Bindi we shared is how strong the personality of each site came through, and how this is consistently true from vintage to vintage and cuvée to cuvée. Working at Bindi, I know that Michael’s connection to the land he grew up on is the basis for all that he does, and the depth of his understanding of each block’s personalities and tendencies is born of that connection. His aesthetic and approach is one that gets the best of out of each block, maximizes their voice and celebrates their difference in a way that is always true to his own love of elegance and deliciousness. I’m continually inspired by what Michael and Wendy and their family have built at Bindi.
17 Bindi Original Vineyard - out Roumier’d and out Chambolle’d the unyielding 05 Roumier Cras next to it, this is totally silken weightlessly pure, crystalline, singing of roses and raspberries. Wafting retronasally for an eternity. The character of OV is always so consistent in its red fruited, floral weightless caressing elegance, and this bottle is one of the most expressive of that character I’ve had. Nobody could take their nose out of the glass, this was totally silken and caressing, my kind of pleasure on both nose and palate.
15 Bindi Quartz - Incredibly chiseled and dense on the palate from opening, this explodes in purity after 1 hour 15 minutes. Has brightened, gone the way of lemon oil and grapefruit pith. Crystalline and sweet, incredible. Such wondrous lemon oil clarity and purity, and just a touch of smoky, flinty, hazelnut reduction has joined the fray now too, adding depth, framing and bolstering the sense of purity on the nose. This is crazy!
1 hour 45 mins in, the wine gains further in youthful purity and gentle reduction. So much youth and energy, so much aromatic complexity, so many tactile and textural layers. The palate is now all lemon oil, lemon pith, lemon yogurt, lemon zest creme fraiche. The combination of leesy umami and viscosity, purity, acid and chiseled chalky phenolic structure is incredible
At first the Lafon Meursault Perrieres served alongside was more interesting and open, but now we’re not even picking up the glass, no interest in it at all, the Bindi has totally captivated us.
2018 Arnoux Lachaux horizontal
Charles Lachaux has been a winegrower I’ve looked up to since first buying his wines with the 14 and 15 vintages. Meeting Charles and spending time pruning with him taught me that every decision and choice in viticulture is impacted by the decision made before and impacts choices down the line, that winemaking and viticulture are not separate, circular in their relationship, they connect, extend and flow into one another.
Every year since then, I’ve held a horizontal of the village cuvées with my team and this was the first time we got to share the wines as our reds were fermenting, providing immediate comparison and inspiration for our work.
2018 Arnoux Lachaux NSG - super perfumed, all damask rose, rose oil, crushed strawberries and raspberries, nutmeg and gentle spice. This is by far the most aromatically expressive and detailed, the purest, silkiest and most weightlessly intense NSG villages i’ve had from the domaine.
Wow! My second pour is crazy, has gained another level in aromatic pitch and intensity, full of honeyed peach, rosehip, orange zest and oil.
2018 Arnoux Lachaux Chambolle - This is another step up in high toned aromatics next to the NSG, a core of crushed raspberry, framboise liqueur. Really in line with the last two vintages in its almost singular focus on framboise purity, crystallinity. Just a touch of raspberry yogurt, damask rose and rose hip,.
Second glass has all the weightless, ethereal, high toned purity and crystallinity as with vintages of the past, but more depth, density and spherical breadth. Really something special.
2018 Arnoux Lachaux Vosne - the most open Vosne villages I’ve ever tasted from the domaine. As always, the most spice driven of the three, but much less dark and dense than the previous iterations. So lifted, orange zest, nutmeg, dried, wilted damask rose, honeyed peach, crushed strawberries, really gains in lift and purity and spherical weightlessness with steak.
Of the first pours, the Chambolle is my favorite, but we really can’t split the three in terms of quality. This is the closest in terms of quality I’ve ever seen in these three wines and i think this really speaks to how special the work was in 2018.
Wow I lied. My second pour of Vosne is stunning. This is then most open and pure and aromatically captivating Vosne I’ve tasted from the domaine. Much more high toned, red fruited, floral and orange inflected than the 14/15/16/17s I’ve tasted, but keeping the same core of spice and umami depth that is so true to their Vosne. (I’m really happy to say that vat #3 of my reds reminded me greatly of this wine in perfume and texture)
Second day, each wine is more aromatic, more exuberant. The Chambolle is much unchanged, but the other two feel amplified in their aromas and the cohesiveness of their textures. The wines feel more caressing, silkier, more serene yet expressive all at once. Amazing, the life, energy and sheer deliciousness they all showed on day two.
The Beginning of Elevage
As the our wines move into their next phase of development, I’m entering a new phase of my own winemaking journey. A phase that has been hypothetical in my mind for many years as I’ve pored over the many details of how and why things are done by those whose wines I admire most.
One thing I‘ve come to realize in the past few years is that the choices made during elevage are often connected to decisions taken earlier - the quantity of whole cluster retained in red fermentations often affects the timing of malolactic, which then affects the microbiological and micro-oxidative evolution of the wine. The length of maceration for reds during cuvaison at many domaines is often in proportion to the length of elevage as well, the quantity and subsquent polymerization of tannin being the link between the two.
I’ve seen how whites transform drastically with each winter spent on the lees in barrel, gaining in structure, incisiveness and viscosity at the same time. Yet the impact and balance of time also depends greatly on the environment the wine is placed into, the quantity of solids taken to barrel after pressing, the size of barrel, if foulage was performed, and how one pressed.
From these examples, it’s clear that to copy any one process or choice from another domaine, without understanding the context of how it fits in the bigger picture, can create a sense of dissonance or even discord.
As writer William Kelley has said, wine “is like assembling a jigsaw puzzle, in that it’s a series of inter-related, accumulative choices that together create a certain style…...And you can’t really just borrow pieces from other people’s puzzles, because they don’t fit into the picture”.
There are many approaches to elevage, but the one that holds most intellectual appeal to me is the idea of making the wine more of what it already is, to make it the best possible version of what it can be. Without the clear markers of sugar dryness or malic acid conversion, the processes and outcomes of elevage can feel much less tangible than the steady tick of fermentation, but they are equally, if not more, important.
By the end of fermentation, the rough outline, the raw form and core material of each wine is already determined. The choices and outcomes of elevage are about taking that raw form and outline and shaping the wine, how it feels. With that in mind, if my ultimate goal for elevage is to help each wine fulfill its potential, then barrels must function within and ultimately work to serve that goal rather than to simply add flavor.
As it’s our first vintage and couldn’t bring in used barrels from friends abroad, I worked with William Kelley and Max Gigandet at Francois Freres to hone in on how we could build barrel profiles for both white and red that would help the wines taste more of what they already were.
One of the big tests was with our first tasting this autumn. I was elated and relieved to see how exuberantly perfumed, pure and weightless the wines continued to feel, how ‘quiet’ the barrels were, how they seemed to amplify the inherent perfume and purity of the wines rather than speaking separately through the obtrusiveness of toast, spice or creaminess.
Now that malolactic has completed in the reds and is concluding in the whites, the wines’ microbiological transformations are nearing their end and the alchemy of elevage begins in earnest. The relatively reductive phase of fermentation and malolactic, when co2 is actively being produced by the yeast and bacteria, now moves to a new phase of interaction between oxygen, barrel tannin, lees and the many chemical components within one the wines themselves.
As the wines continue to grow and change, it will be fascinating to taste and see how the wines move with the seasons and to intuit the right moment to bottle.
Vintage 2023 was full of details that will stay with me, from obsessing over ever changing weather forecasts, making pick calls, tasting at the press, tasting ferments, sharing bottles to bonfire dancing with our pickers, this was our first true vintage, one where I finally relived the oscillation between exhaustion and elation of years past working abroad.
There is a real satisfaction in the exhaustion of vintage, one that comes with the continuity of physical work, and a real camaraderie that builds with the first cold beer shared at day’s end.
This year I encountered a new layer of exhaustion from the constancy of decisions, small and large, that came with making my own wine in volume for the first time.
I loved it all. Above all else, I loved tasting a tangible manifestation of year’s work, of the place we work and sharing that with my team, my family and friends who came to visit. The vibrancy and intense personality of our wines this year is particularly gratifying as it feels like a real validation, of our work in the vineyard this season, the changes we’ve made in the past few years and most of all, the inherent quality of our site.
It’s still early days, but I’m really happy with how the wines are progressing and tasting so far. I’m so excited about all that I’m learning about this vineyard, about it’s personality and what it’s capable of.
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