74 SEPTEMBER 2019 | TOWNANDCOUNTRYMAG.COM
S
OT
HE
BY
’S
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W
IN
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OUT&ABOUT
Inheritance
COMPLEX
Should you try to
improve your family’s
538-year-old business?
asked Jean-Louis Chave, standing on a pre-
cipitous hillside in the appellation of Saint-
Joseph, France, looking out at rows of young
vines spilling down toward the Rhône River.
“I don’t need another house.”
The 51-year-old vintner was speaking to a
small group of New York oenophiles, most of
them bankers, who did an excellent job
pretending to understand this sen-
timent, while Chave explained
why he chose to carve 37
acres of vineyard out of
previously forested hill-
sides that are too steep
for tractors (a hugely
expensive project).
He predicted that it
would be 20 to 30 years
before the land produces
wines that will be really
good, and that even then they
will never be quite as good as the
wines he makes on the 37 acres he inher-
ited on the exalted hill of Hermitage, which
is visible upriver and from which come some
of the most renowned wines on the planet.
“I’m the 16th generation in my family to
make wine,” he went on. “I feel that every gen-
eration should add something to the legacy.
I just want to add to the story.”
It is not easy for Americans to understand
familial responsibility on this time scale.
Chave’s ancestors have been making wine
since 1481. They started out planting vines in
the Saint-Joseph appellation. Hermitage, with
its superior exposure and soils, was at that time
in the hands of the church and the nobility.
But in the 1860s the phylloxera epidemic
arrived, wiping out the family’s vines, along
with everyone else’s, and ultimately creat-
ing an opportunity. When the pestilence was
finally tamed, Chave’s family was able to buy
pieces of the hallowed Hermitage hill, which
according to legend was named for a retired
crusader who lived on it as a hermit—ermite
in French—though how the word acquired
an “h” is a mystery.
Hermitage wines had many anglophone
fans in the 18th and 19th centuries (Thomas
Jefferson was one), when it was regarded as
the equal of Bordeaux. In fact, the bold reds
of Hermitage were sometimes blended into
Bordeaux to beef the latter up.
About one-fifth of the production of Her-
mitage is white—rich, viscous wines made
from marsanne and roussanne grapes. The
reds are 100 percent syrah, which makes sense,
as some believe the grape originated here.
Even if it did not, many connoisseurs argue
that Hermitage wines are the greatest expres-
sion of that varietal.
“In the 1700s,” Chave told us, “the whites
were more famous than the reds. White Her-
mitage is about a kind of gastronomy
that doesn’t really exist anymore:
butter, cream, heavy sauces,
sweetbreads.” They have
a beautiful silky texture
and inevitably taste of
honey, although they
are not actually sweet.
They have their fans,
myself included, but
these days the stars are
the reds, and Chave’s reds
are universally regarded as
the pinnacle of the appellation.
From our perch high on the
side of the hill, we could see the Rhône,
which overall flows south but takes an abrupt
eastward turn here, giving the hill a direct
southern exposure, which results in maxi-
mum sunshine on the vines planted on it.
Because of this exposure, Hermitage wines
are generally at least two degrees of alcohol
riper than wines from less favored east-facing
vineyards up- and downstream.
The hill is mainly composed of granite,
but the soils are very complex, with many dis-
tinct parcels, or climats, consisting of different
proportions of granite, limestone, and clay.
“Hermitage is our grand cru,” Chave said. He
pointed out the hill’s various climats, imper-
ceptible to us from this distance, although
when we went to the cellar in the town to
taste the young wines from these subdivisions
of the hill, there were dramatic differences
that reflected the different soils and exposures.
Some producers of Hermitage, like
Chapoutier, bottle these separate parcels indi-
vidually, labeling them with the name of the
climat, but Chave vinifies them separately and
then blends them, leaving out the batches that
he feels have underperformed or that don’t fit
in that year’s blend. The results are profound.
But they are not for the impatient. Even the
white wines, after an initial, accessible youth,
take many years to show their colors.
Down in the dank, labyrinthine cellar,
parts of which date from the 18th century,
Chave opened a 2001 white for us. He ulti-
mately declared it still
WHEN
IN RHÔNE
Two more noteworthy Rhône
appellations are Condrieu, known
for aromatic whites made from viognier,
and Côte-Rôtie, which produces bold,
syrah-based reds. Etienne Guigal makes
excellent examples: 201 7 Condrieu
La Doriane, $126, and the 2014
Côte-Rôtie La Landonne,
$390, both available at
wine.com.
BY JAY MCINERNEY
[CONTINUED ON PAGE 152]
“What would I do with more money?”