Fortified wines: Sweet endings(2)
As the tastings continued over the days, I became more enamoured with these beauties. In the small village of Passa, I tasted Puig-Parathy Rivesaltes at the dining room table of producer Georges Puig that dated back to 1953, 1945, 1900 and even 1890 (because they are fortified, vin doux natural can age indefinitely). I sat in this quiet room mesmerized by the flavours of gianduja, hazelnuts, orange, caramel and chestnuts running through this silken liquid. At Domaine La Coume del Mas, there were young Banyuls by the names of Galateo and Quintessense that were actually light and refreshing, like drinking black cherries in the morning dew, and a rare white Banyuls that tasted of pears and almonds. At Mas Amiel, I sipped Maury that had been aged a year in glass demijohns (large jars) situated right in the vineyard before being transferred to a barrel, resulting in an oxidized wine that tasted of toffee, which I imagined would provide the ideal match for crème caramel, milk chocolate mousse, chestnut creams or tarte Tatin.
And just when I was thinking vins doux naturels were reserved for foie gras and dessert, there came a tasting of a Rivesaltes Ambré with a plate of saucisson sec, blood pudding, chorizo, Cervelat sausage and pata negra. Though still sweet, the Ambré Rivesaltes is dryer than the more dessert-suited wines I had been enjoying. Its sweetness worked surprisingly well with the spicy and fatty flavours in the charcuterie. Montreal sommeliers often serve Banyuls, Maury and Rivesaltes with desserts, but I’ve never been offered any of them with savoury dishes. What an eye-opener.
Armed with my new love of these French wines, I headed back to Montreal to see how much attention they are getting on the local scene.
The SAQ lists 16 Banyuls, nine Maury and 18 Rivesaltes on its website (saq.com). But don’t get too excited: Stocks are limited, and most of the best ones don’t come cheap. But we’re seeing more of them in restaurants that favour private imports, where many gems (like that Coume des Mas white Banyuls) are available.
One complaint heard when tasting these wines at their source in the Roussillon is that they are little known outside the region. And even within the region, their consumption is down as they’re widely considered old-fashioned. The recent trend toward food and wine pairing may just be their saving grace as they pair very well with so many flavours.
At the excellent and extremely branché restaurant Le St-Urbain, sommelier Chantal Gervais is eager to introduce her customers to these old-school wines. “I’m dropping the ports,” she says. “I want to lead customers down new paths. These wines are ‘géants’ and they are not just sweet, but very aromatic, which lends them to all sorts of subtle pairings. I like a Maury on intense chocolate desserts, and a Banyuls with lighter chocolate or red fruit. And the oxidized Rivesaltes for anything with orange, nuts or caramel. We serve it with our beignets with salted caramel sauce, a creamy blue cheese or a Quebec Mont-Jacob.”
To test out her pairing ideas, we sampled two desserts with a half dozen bottles. With a soft chestnut cake with sapote cream, chocolate cream, crumble and hazelnut ice cream, Gervais reached first for a Maury Fagayra. Rich, dry, and dense, the wine worked well with the intense chocolate cream. And yet after a few sips of a Domaine de la Rectorie Banyuls, with its hints of red fruit, there was no denying the Banyuls was better. The Maury Mas Amiel also scored high for being refreshing and lighter than both, but the verdict rested with the fruity Banyuls.
For the next dessert, olive-oil cake with lime marscapone, raspberry ribbon, popcorn, candied kumquats and pistachio ice cream, we changed register completely, opting for an aged Rivesaltes, a 1959 Château Las Collas, which sells for an eyebrow-raising $175 per 350 mL bottle at the restaurant ($89 at the SAQ). Keep in mind, though, that this wine is more than 50 years old; price does not seem to deter the Le St-Urbain customer. “I ordered 11 bottles thinking I would have them for a while,” said Gervais, “but I’ve already sold nine, including one for chef-owner Marc-André Royal, who is setting it aside for Christmas dinner.”
And with the dessert? “The wine tastes of hazelnuts and orange zest with a nice acidity to back it up,” said Gervais while swirling, sniffing and sipping. “And I’m always surprised by its freshness. It has none of that heaviness you get from port or other fortified wines. With the kumquats in this dish, the flavours explode. And with the texture of the popcorn, it’s just magic.”
I had a final trick up my sleeve for Gervais, a bottle of the Domaine Cazes Rivesaltes Tuilé 1990, which I placed next to her Rivesaltes Vaquer “Hors d’Âge” Ambré. I had requested some charcuterie, and Royal arrived with a plate of chorizo. I told Gervais about my Rivesaltes/charcuterie pairing, and I wanted her opinion. At first we sampled the spicy sausage with the Ambré, and the verdict was very good. But then with the more potent Tuilé, we both smiled and nodded.
“Very interesting,” she said, pointing out that the copper colour of the wine matched the charcuterie perfectly.
“We forget about how well sugar pairs with charcuterie. I would usually serve this chorizo with a light red or a white like a Vouvray. But this stronger Rivesaltes holds up very well.”
Exiting the table, we were both a little more red-cheeked, and all the wiser. What a treat these wines provided, so elegant, so aromatic, and so complementary to holiday foods ranging from cold cuts to cheese to that festive bûche de Noël. And remember them next time you’re up for something unforgettable to end that restaurant meal.
Anticipating the 180 diners booked for lunch that day, Gervais said: “Today I’m recommending these wines to everyone. I’m completely enamoured.”
