The Idyllic Gamay.

R. Descombes Régnié

If you have ever seen one, would you know what it is? Looking upon a single red grape berry, could you make several distinctions about its character?  With a little overtime, you could engage in enough circumspection so as to have the varietal itself, respond to your queries in an English accent. What I mean, is that you can try your damnedest  to unlock the mystery of anything, but even if the object is seemingly inanimate, you could find yourself tirelessly building up enough insanity to act as if you are engaging in dialogue with a piece of fruit. Perhaps, that is not too far off from the role of most oenologists, as I do worry about the great providence they must take when making conclusions. Granted, I am not always forgiving when the science of wine is bridged by speculation and chemistry, but I do enjoy the presence of esoteric datums and diagrams that turn up. Maybe it’s more important than I know, and much more necessary than I am currently divulging; however, I find the particularly unpopular varietlals all the more stigmatizing and chemically ambiguous.

Provided I had the time, you would find me lab-testing the dubious nature of Gamay. Something of a persona-non-grata, the juice that pours from this bulbous fruit might as well be drizzling away through the schist and granite soils where it has become habituated. More specifically, the whole of the Beaujolais region has been the hallmark area for it, but even with the extravaganza of Nouveau season during late November, the interest appears to fall short of favorable. Most people, even those who have escaped novice status in wine drinking, will pass it up for something else. Speaking again of stigmatics, it’s usually pushed into a corner until Thanksgiving arrives, or it’s drinking is readdressed when summertime becomes nothing but maelstroms of heat and sweat. 

Sweat. Funny term, considering that most people tend to regard it as worse, or, if the original term persists, the previously referenced word needs no mitigation. I have no reason to think of it that way, because myself and many others enjoy the grape for its juicy integrity, deep phenolic spectrum and the way it stresses practicality. Provided, there are some relatively expensive ones, but rightfully, it goes on to be a force of accessibility. Beaujolais sits at the southern border of Burgundy, and I would like to think of them both as mutually beneficial, they are in some cases, but it hasn’t come to total fruition for my particular tastes. Think of Brouilly, Regnie, Morgon, Fleurie, Julienas, Moulin-a-Vent and so on, in terms of appellation, but all are good and all are priced fairly where applicable. You are paying more for a Premiere Cru, or 1st Label, but still, the revelations are delicious. 

Domaine Vougeon 

Think of juices, crushed tart berries, flowers, and under-ripe black plums. That’s the general tableau of nuances for most, but some are exceptionally meaty and savory in the Fleurie and Régnié A.O.C’s, appearing a little more rustic and old-worldly, but the fact remains, they need to be lauded for more than they are currently worth, especially in the presence of buyers. I enjoyed Domaine Vougeon’s “Brouilly” as of late, and as it was not highly extracted, this sort of discovery and wonderment existed in the refreshment, as I would not trade that in, even for something lush and effluent. I saw hints of rose, violet, blueberry essence, red plum, and a slight touch of crushed blackberries. Thirst was not an issue, as it played contritely as a lighter-bodied wine with a touch of culinary adaptability. Something with a little more gratuity, the “R. Descombes,” a Régnié, gave off hints of verjus, sea salt, redcurrant and fig. If you desire muscular wine, it might be the one you’ve been pining for.   

For those who know the nature of the Grape, it’s thin-skinned, has a high glycerin content, but implies a fresh, but bright nature that seems principally youthful. Some tend to confuse it for Pinot Noir, but there’s no contention. Pinot can actually show more guile, but Gamay is provokingly basic. The idea is not to rely too much on “Beaujolais Nouveau;” which by default, makes its annual appearance. The product has made the 'Beauj' region a bastion of successful winemaking in the Americas, but due to it’s export history, interest is only dominated during every third week of November, when the product is released to consumers. With carbonic maceration, and a short ageing period, the purpose is to create a soft, approachable wine for the cornucopian food holidays. 

The object of Gamay does not seem to rest in finality. The Loire Valley, and other outside countries have been playing unceremoniously with the varietal, but there are plans just as with any other grape, to look into furthering its potential. Some feel remorseful, some feel enchanted, but the only problem with the wine, or the finished product, it seems, are the simple misunderstandings. One can put labels on a wine, and few actually do state the name of the fruit responsible, but that may as well be tradition instead of misconduct. The opinions will vary, given the attitude of those interested, but the fact remains, is that this particular berry needs its followers, its lowly entourage needs to be something much more than a few pins pressed on the French map.

Or...would you prefer brass tacks instead?

Brian Maniotis

Wine Warehouse

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