Petit mais précis, sur moins de dix hectares, voici une propriété bourguignonne installés à Saint-Romain au début des années 90 . Dans la besace de réZin depuis plus de 10 ans, ce domaine est l’un de nos fleurons en agriculture biodynamique, et en vinification peu interventionniste. Une dégustation mémorable…Texte par Adam Leith Gollner, Photos par Natasha Li Pickowicz
Based in Saint-Romain, Fred Cossard of Domaine de Chassorney crafts unsulphured, natural and biodynamic Burgundies. We tasted some of his delicious 2010s on Monday June 18th at Hambar in Vieux Montreal. You can learn more about Cossard and his wines over Chassorney’s web site and on Wine terroirs.
So, so excellent. Totally natural pinot noir. Sumptuous, soft and exceptionally juicy. In some ways, it’s a Burgundian equivalent to Marcel Lapierre. Several tasters commented on how “clean” the wine is —clean, but not sterile. “More log cabin than Manhattan condo,” as someone said. The 2010 Bedeau is still young and nervy—wet behind the ears. But it has a great life ahead of it, like an undergrad backpacker who is going to change the world.
A light, refreshing and frisky chardonnay to keep in the fridge at home. Les Bigotes has its own complexities—flintiness, lactic notes, a gentle, beguiling herbaceousness—but it’s best understood as an easy drinking, sparky white that throws sparks of happiness across your tastebuds.
(See photo of Steve for the only appropriate reaction to this wine.)
You take a sip of Combe Bazin, lean back, and start wigging out. It’s unlike any other Saint Romain you’ve ever had, and better too. Imagine biting into a ripe, crisp and juicy Bartlett pear. (Key word: crispy.) Balancing out all that fruit is a deep minerality and salinity. There’s a very subtle soupcon of an oxidative hint, toasted walnuts complementing the pears. In short, a wine that illustrates why we love Burgundy so much.
A nose of classic old-school Montreal pizza dough opens onto a vibrant and textured palate of white fruit. A wine both totally focused yet also slightly untamed, wild horses running through fields of wild flowers. The ripeness of the fruit gives it a slight sweetness. Rezin’s very own Genevieve Boucher calls it “delicate honey.” We call it pure joy.
A bottle of fruit profundity, and fecundity. Seedlings bursting through the loamy earth. The growth of the soil. Roots spreading life in the subterranean darkness. Springtime rebirth. Direct, mineral magic. You can taste the terroir in the lovely tannins. So Volnay.
A lean and focused Narvaux. Cossard’s imprint is all over this wine, and what a touch he has. A green-gold elixir giving off orange peel notes, what sets it apart is its special piney, resinous quality. Resin-ey and Rezin-ey.
Super complex. You can taste the whole clusters: the ripe stems, the summer leaves, the hand-harvested fruit. It’s a tad reticent at the beginning, but gradually reveals itself, coyly. A wine you don’t want to speak too loudly around, as you might startle it. Not a pushover though, more like an 18th century metaphysician contemplating nature’s splendors. It’s a compassionate wine, sensitive but not weak, delicate but not dainty. “Is it a femme fatale?” wonders Cassady Sniatkowsky of Kaizen. “No, because it has balls,” answers Ryan Gray from Nora Gray. It’s a Morey Monts-Luisants, neither feminine nor masculine, somewhere in the middle, Gevrey muscle avec Chambolle lace.
“There’s a lot of wine in this bottle,” concludes Vanya Filipovic from Joe Beef. Let it unfold over the course of a meal, then watch it evolve for the rest of your life.