Descending into Vincent Dauvissat's cellar evokes the uncanniest of nostalgias. If you were disoriented and had forgotten your phone you could be easily convinced you'd time-travelled to the 12th century. Vincent remains an archetype of the reluctant, self-effacing vigneron, not insignificant in a world with increasingly fewer of them yet no shortage of ‘winemakers.’
Vincent seems sublimely disinterested when pressed about technical aspects of winemaking or the physiochemical particulars of his parcels - really anything remotely science-y. Daniel asked him about the differences in soil types in his two grands crus. Vincent suggested asking a worm. For Vincent the wines themselves narrate what needs narrating. Aspects of viticulture or terroir not observable in the wine are irrelevant. Why waste time speculating when there is so much in the glass?
Just love the ‘20s here. We recently tasted the two Left Bank premiers. ’Vaillons’ as usual builds its expressive power around salt and stones and subtle flashes of citrus, delicate and oceanic. ‘La Forest’ is in unusually fine form, denser and grippier than ‘Vaillons.’ The concentration and length are just superb.
Cheers,
Jason
