In the magazine: Super Rhônes

A new wine movement in the South of France is abandoning traditional classifications while resisting being defined by previous schools of rebellious winemakers, writes Roger Morris.

NICOLE ROLET did not set out to be exhibit number one in the emergence of what are being called the ‘Super Rhônes’. When the former Merrill Lynch investment banker and her husband, Xavier, head of the London Stock Exchange, bought a derelict estate high in the mountains east of Avignon 25 years ago, they thought it would be a good place to make wines. It was, and the first releases from their Chêne Bleu estate came from the 2006 vintage.

One was a red blend dubbed Héloise, which Rolet decided to make with, “a splash of Viognier”, as is done in Côte Rôtie. “There was just no question that [Viognier] made a better wine,” she says, “more fragrant, more complex aromatically.” The only problem was that Ventoux, the appellation where Chêne Bleu is located, as well as surrounding regions, did not permit that “splash of Viognier” in its blends, and it wasn’t interested in making an exception. So Rolet decided to embrace the lesser designation of Vin de Pays du Vaucluse, but she wasn’t willing to accept a VdP price for it.

Instead, she set a much more extravagant tag (it sells for about HK$600 today) more in line with CôteRôtie prices, and certainly more than a standard Ventoux or Vaucluse would fetch. In appellation-conscious France, it was a bold decision. Rolet then took her act on the road, visiting the trade and media in England, the US and elsewhere, discovering she could sell Chêne Bleu wines as adroitly as she once traded stocks and bonds. It helped that the wines were complex and delicious, and soon journalists were dubbing Chêne Bleu as “the first Super Rhône,” a designation Rolet has not been reticent in using.

It’s a good story, but do Chêne Bleu and a handful of like wines really constitute the next wave in a recurring tide of rebellions by innovative wine producers worldwide against traditional appellation and marketplace rules? Are they legitimate cavistes in the tradition of the Right Bank garagistes and Napa Valley cult producers; classic French vintners who abandoned their hallowed terroirs in search of freedom and adventure in the New World, and – yes – the Super Tuscans? Perhaps the answer as to whether Super Rhônes will carve their own niche or fade away as quickly as early morning mist may depend on how the new movement is defined.

BUILD A REPUTATION

The garagistes rebelled against a stillantiquated, centuries-old system of rating properties, not wines. Super Tuscan producers chafed at being prohibited from employing French grape varieties in their appellations. Bordeaux and Burgundy winemakers fled France because of similarly strict appellation rules, but also because of a lack of room to expand production in those appellations. And California cult wineries showed that, with good vineyards and lots of investment, a winery didn’t have to wait decades (or even centuries) to build a reputation.

To a certain extent, the Super Rhônes are, so far, a movement that is much like a tropical depression, one that has not yet coalesced into a serious storm. The seeds are there, but will it produce a passing shower or a memorable cyclone? If we could be permitted to devise a definition of Super Rhônes from scratch, it might make sense to cast a wide net. Most would agree that the parameters include: • Wines from serious vintners that contain varieties not permitted in the appellations, as well as those that do consist of approved varieties but in unapproved proportions. • Wines from the general Rhône region – including nearby parts of Provence and the Languedoc – although not technically part of the greater Côtes du Rhône appellation. Yes, they are not appellation Rhône wines, but they are in the Rhône vicinity and are made in the Rhône idiom. • Wines made from lesser-known appellations within the Rhône Valley that carry no caché. That includes stellar wines from regions such as Seyssuel, which do not even enjoy ‘village’ status but are so well made that their producers can charge prices way above their pedigree. • So-called ‘natural wines’ that use the proper varieties but whose techniques, and sometimes whose tastes, keep them from being given appellation approval. The Rhône Valley is certainly too large to expect everything to be in lockstep.

It is France’s second-largest wine area – more than 70,000 hectares annually producing about 372 million bottles of wine, 81% of it red and 33% of it exported. It has 17 crus, and 95 recognised ‘villages’, with 27 approved varieties, all of them having been grown in the area for centuries. The region spreads out at the southern end of the valley like a middle-age waistline, even including regions such as Luberon and Ventoux, which, unlike the bulk of the valley, is in the Vaucluse department.

Still, the 70,000ha, 17 crus and 27 varieties leaves some winemakers unsatisfied. If the north of France is considered to be extremely orthodox in its belief in appellations, Mediterranean France in particular often wants to – choose your cliché – think outside the box or colour outside the lines. “I see Super Rhônes as being made by a group of winemakers who are excited and have ambition,” Rolet says, “people who want to reflect the quality of their terroirs and to express them. We all respect tradition, but not necessarily the restrictions placed by the appellations.” That would include winemakers such as Rémy Pedreno, who founded Roc d’Anglade in the Languedoc in 1996, later partnering with René Rostaing.

Pedreno decided to make a Vin de Pays du Gard with his Carignan grapes rather than an appellation wine because, he says, “The appellation only allows 40% Carignan, and I am at 50%.” A second reason is that “my best parcel of Carignan is not part of the AOC, and I didn’t want to make a separate wine with it”. Similarly, Eloi Dürrbach of Domaine de Trévallon knew that Cabernet Sauvignon was planted in Provence before phylloxera and that it blended well with Syrah. He also knew that to make a wine blending the two would force him to call it a ‘Vin de France’. He did, and consumers and collectors are still buying it at £60 a bottle. In the Languedoc, the Guibert family of Mas de Daumas Gassac makes an IGP rouge that is a Cabernet Sauvignon-heavy Medoc blend with a daring soupçon of Pinot Noir.

Stéphane Ogier, the ‘S’ of M&S Ogier, is well known for his superior Côte-Rôties, but, along with other Côte-Rôtie and Condrieu producers, he became enchanted by Seyssuel, a cooler region north of Vienne on the east side of the Rhône that had long been abandoned. Over the past dozen years, Ogier and his colleagues have participated in a massive replanting of Seyssuel. Ogier says that his wine from Seyssuel, a Syrah-based cuvée called L’Âme Soeur, is “not at the level as my best Côte-Rôtie, but it is better than some of my Côte-Rôties”.

LONG PROCESS

As Seyssuel does not even merit the basic ‘village’ status, Ogier and a dozen or so other winemakers decided to label their wines as a simply a regional, non-distinct ‘Collines Rhodaniennes IGP’. Their hope is to gradually elevate Seyssuel through the various village designations until it eventually becomes a cru, such as St. Joseph or Gigondas, a process that will take decades. However, each producer has taken different tracts on winemaking and pricing. M. Chapoutier, for example, prices its Lucidus rouge from Seyssuel at about £18, while Ogier’s L’Âme Soeur fetches more than £30, although still less than his Côte-Rôties.

Paul Wasserman, of the family-owned, Beaune-based exporters Becky Wasserman & Co., says one of the drivers in the ignore-the-appellation movement is the growing number of so-called ‘natural’ winemakers. “One of the reason that appellations are losing ground is because they refuse to grant the appellation to a natural wine they consider flawed, while they will invariably grant it to a totally clean, but soulless, wine,” he says.

While Wasserman isn’t sure the Super Rhône emergence will blossom into a full scale movement, he does see it as indicative of a France-wide trend of diminishing the importance of appellations. He cites, as an example, the number of grower Champagnes that are either Pinot Meunier-based and/or come from non-crus vineyards that nevertheless command high prices because of their quality, if not their pedigree. “To many in the geeky wine business, appellations are no longer a guarantee of quality,” Wasserman says. “I choose to say ‘geeky’ over fine wine, because ‘fine wine’ is more associated with the prestigious wines from classic collectible appellations.” Bruce Neyers, national sales manager for Kermit Lynch, the American importer that represents many innovative French producers, such as Grange des Pères, producer of sought-after Vin de Pays de l’Hérault, thinks there is definite interest among French producers in making Super Rhônes. “We get offers of expensive wines from Provence, Languedoc and Rhône all the time,” he notes, but also points out, “There are a lot of crazy people out there who think it’s simply a good marketing plan to ask a high price for their wine – and they declare it ‘special’ in order to do so.” Wasserman sees some evidence on both sides of the debate over whether or not Super Rhônes will become a fully-fledged category. “There is an increasing number of domains for whom the choice of IGP and Vin de France over a more prestigious AOP is actually a badge of honour,” he says. “And I think the educated, geeky crowd rewards those choices, which they find appropriately rebellious.”

At the same time, he points out, some of the possible Super Rhônes were previously foot soldiers in the “rise of Languedoc-Roussillon, which has been announced for 20 years now, and, in the US, it has actually failed to rise”. Rolet says: “Super Rhônes first need to be validated by critics and other third parties in the trade, and not just for their originality, but especially for their quality. Marketing itself will never be successful if the product hasn’t been validated.” To that extent, the dozen or so wines identified today as part of the Super Rhône movement have not only survived but have flourished, at least as far as critical ratings and above-their-weight pricing is concerned. “In part it’s a generation thing,” Rolet says. “The older generation trusted appellations. But the younger generation has a variety of yardsticks; a cacophony of different systems. They most likely will listen not to one, but to a variety of influences.”

MARKET RECOGNITION

Currently, Rolet points out, the various producers of Super Rhônes “are beginning to find each other”, and she recently lead a small group of them to China on a promotional tour. She sees this and some informal organisational meetings as the first step in receiving market recognition as broad group, rather than being seen as a scattered collection of individuals. “We are,” Rolet concludes, “a movement that is at the crossroads of terroir and appellation.”