In January this year I was learning about the left/right bank contrasts of Chablis at a tasting hosted by BIVB Chablis at 28-50 in Maddox Street. I wrote about it here, using a picture in a deeply clever and innovative way to illustrate the story.

*** Chablis is not a grape, by the way. A drinks magazine editor pointed out recently that most wine consumers think that’s the case. It’s actually a region in the north of Burgundy that makes lean, generally mineral, apple-and-citrus wine from chardonnay grapes. ***

Anyway, at the tasting I was talking to a gentleman called Sebastien who was pouring the wines. He explained to me how Chablis develops in the bottle – the sort of flavours that bottle ageing produces which transform Chablis from lean, generally mineral, apple-and-citrus wines into something new and wonderful – with flavours of hazelnuts, mushrooms, honey, stuff like that.

I told Sebastien that, though I loved Chablis, I’d never tasted any older-vintage bottles and would have to seek some out. He told me that he worked for Jean-Marc Brocard, one of the big producers in Chablis, and that he would send me a bottle when he got back to France. I said that would be brilliant and wandered off to find the smoked salmon (much better with oaked, left-bank Chablis than generally unoaked right-bank Chablis, by the way).

A few weeks later a magnum of Brocard 2003 arrived on my doorstep and I felt very happy about that. I wrote to Sebastien, saying I would wait for the right time to open it and would let him know how I found it.

Several months later, over dinner with my girlfriend and a couple of friends, one of whom is a girl, or rather a woman; the other of whom is a boy, or rather man, I opened it.

Dinner was oysters with two sauces – one of passion fruit, the other sauce mignonette – then saltcrust sea trout with roast potatoes, samphire and saffron aioli.

Now 2003 is supposed to have been a disastrous vintage in Burgundy: loads of frost damage in April followed by one of the hottest summers on record, which meant grapes had to be picked ridiculously early throughout the region. Quantities were low and quality much the same (although cooler sites on higher slopes which usually produced inferior wines (eg Hautes Côtes de Beaune, Hautes Côtes de Nuits) had an anomalously good year).

Yet this 2003 Chablis was absolutely wonderful: hazelnut, honey and savoury notes combined with a much-softened lemon-apple fruitiness. Lovely texture, well-balanced, really complex and quite rich, which is remarkable if you consider that AOC Chablis is unoaked.

No oak, a cool climate and the famously unaromatic chardonnay – this might seem like a recipe for unremarkable wine, but here the combination of good-quality grapes, the flavour-producing action of fermentation, lees ageing and extended time in bottle has produced something wonderful. I wish I had 20 more magnums to savour.

A huge thank you to Sebastien for introducing me to the deliciousness of older vintage Chablis.

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