Cluny Cellar Club Inaugural Trip - The Mâconnais

Vergisson

The Cluny Cellar Club’s members came from far and wide for the inaugural outing to Vergisson in the Mâconnais subregion of Burgundy. I can only describe the parts to which I was party and for me that party began in the glass viewing box overlooking a runway at the Weatherspoon’s of Gatwick airport.

Here, old friends reunited, new faces and acquaintances were introduced, and the society began to take shape. We drank the last English ale we’d encounter for a week and shared the titles of the books we’d brought from home or acquired more recently. In my case, a charming poetry book had caught my attention in the airport WHSmith, and it transpired that the author Rupi Kaur was somewhat of an effeminate favourite among the club’s attendees. We discussed at length the merits of her short form, journalistic style of poetry, often with relatable, angst driven themes pertaining especially to the experience of the fairer sex. I was hooked, but after a good dose of armpit hair and touchy uncles I’d had my fill and it was time for the book to shift hands.

Soon after, we were air bound and with the help of a delightful air hostess, all went according to plan. Even a distinctly moody border guard’s attempts to slow us down, failed to thwart our progress in picking up the car rental before the agency closed its doors. A short stint on the autoroute and we had arrived at our destination, Vergecosse in Vergisson.

L’Anniversaire d’une Jolie Fille

We arrived all giggles at the villa and tucked into some fridged beers. The following day saw the first official club dinner. It was very much an acclimatisation dinner. Members had to acclimatise to each other’s humour or lack thereof and we all had to acclimatise to Chardonnay of the Burgundian variety. This in itself was a case of diverse personalities. There were a plethora of options on the first night including Macon-villages, Saint-Verans, Vire-Clesses and Pouilly-Fuisse’s but all true to the club’s aims of discovering Mâconnais Chardonnay. Into the mix was added a bottle or two of chilled Beaujolais for those who desired some deviation from the purist agenda and balance for the BBQ of grilled kebab and fish.

Club Captain Frazer also invited some locals to ensure the evening was charming and authentic as possible and to balance the discourse between the club’s mostly English-speaking members with the language of the natives. I’m sure all club members agree that this was an exchange in the truest sense, both socially and by virtue of our ending up with two Lyonnaise Praline cakes and Capt. F offloading some charming Kaur poetry. Credit must also be given to those charged with the preparation of excellent salads, shellfish and meats which were paired so beautifully with the condiments and wine on offer.

Sometime not long after this first dinner was the birthday of Club President Urquhart who was glad to throw off the chains of employment and tuck into her scrambled eggs that morning with a glass of buck’s fizz and the first and only local croissant of the trip. The day was spent lounging by the pool and by drinks o’clock, club members descended, well moisturised, to the terrace, flowery dresses flowing and pink cheeks glowing. Apero’s of Chardonnay were distributed, and the club descended to the famous Vergisson Auberge.

‘Vous avez place pour huit a manger ?’ A smart and well-dressed club member asked.

‘Non, pas possible.’ came the curt reply.

So the club members ascended back from whence they had come and whilst the lady members continued their degustation of vins blancs, the gentlemen piled into a car and sped down the road to Charnay, commenting along the way on the miserable grey architecture they found there.

Returning laden with good food and grateful to be in one piece after a discussion of the worst automobile crashes and write offs they had previously been party to, they set to work preparing dinner while the ladies supped at their Chardonnay.
A starter of melon, prosciutto and tomatoes was prepared while Club Lieutenant-General Flo conjured tortellini and Arrabiatta for the plat. Capt. Fraz, meanwhile busied himself on table duties and wine preparations for the feast ahead. We followed our Champagne with the finest Pouilly-Fuisses and more chilled Beaujolais - a Brouilly to be exact - and the evening flowed wonderfully into a lemon tart. The club then rose to the sound of the Macarena and Cha-cha slide before hitting their scratchers merry and contented.

Les Dégustations Particulaires (Macon & BoJo-lais)

Cornin

Before leaving we bought a few bottles for the club to taste, and we watched on as Romain labelled the Plessy’s which was recently bottled. We followed him up the hill by car and he pointed over to Saint-Amour in Beaujolais with its little Romanesque chapel and Fuissé and Solutré to the North. The clay mixed lime soil became redder and redder the further we climbed to Les Plessys and the Premier Cru sites where we parted ways ‘À bientôt!’. We continued through Fuissé and Solutré-Pouilly, round the rock to Vergisson.

Coudert

The clean steel and modern methods of Cornin contrasted dramatically with the afternoon’s descent through squat, freestanding vines to Beaujolais where we were welcomed by Alain from Domaine Coudert. Somewhat confused about who we were, he led us through his repurposed cattle shed, where the smell of manure was replaced with a background whiff of vinegar.

‘Donc, on va faire un dégustation?’
No messing around. ‘Oui, merci.’
We were led to his long dark bar where we perched on tall footrest-less stools. Behind Alain were his great oak casks on top of which were a collection of trinkets including a Villefranche-sur-Saône rugby ball. It felt like a Swiss Alpine Inn from the Middle Ages.

We proceeded to taste a variety of bottles (6 or so) most of which were without labels and those with labels were facing the wrong way, so the Club President and I had a little difficulty remembering which wine we were tasting, particularly after 4 or 5 glasses. Fortunately, good sense prevailed, and I found a spittoon somewhere near the back of the room which I could use to avoid too heavy an inebriation. Nonetheless, I was the only one to bother with it and despite it being Alain and his friendly daughter Christie’s second or third tasting of the day, they chugged through the wines quite without concern. Meanwhile the Club Pres. matched them glass for glass.

The Couderts make three wines and we tried them all, a mix of 21s and 20s. The Brouilly was tasty and the Vielles Vignes Clos de la Roilette surprisingly powerful. We weren’t blown away by the ’21 Clos de la Roillete – their flagship Fleurie wine - but it probably needs some time. We must taste again in a few months when our favourite London merchant can provide a bottle or two.

Rather than talking of trivialities such as the wine we were drinking, we instead talked of local delicacies such as sock stuffed black pudding and sheep mucus layered sausage. I can’t say my French was quite up to this and I thanked Bacchus that the club president was there to keep us on the straight and narrow. Next the conversation turned to the restaurants of London and Lyon, particularly those that stocked the Domaine’s wines, including Rules in London and L'Âme Soeur in Lyon.

Alain’s Lyon was from another era and his tales were full of nostalgia. We had a good rant about the current mayor who tried to modernise the rules of Lyonnaise Boule and ban Foie Gras, much to the horror of its residents especially the more rurally inclined such as our hosts. His knowledge of the best closes for pick pockets or illegal currency exchange was quite impressive and we left with an idea of Lyon quite apart from the modern, chic yet conservative image already imprinted on my mind. We trundled home through Fleurie, Chénas, Moulin-à-vent and Saint-Amour, missing a stop sign or two on the way.

Couturier

After a night of concern for the welfare of Club Communication’s Executive Storey as she crossed continents to make it to the inaugural club meeting and a lesson or two in debate from Club Advocat Errington we woke early to another sunny and green day amongst the vines.

Club Lepidopterist Arnson and Club Captain F. made for the final domain visit, once again rounding Solutré (the club’s second favourite Roche after Vergisson) to the village of Loché where Marcel and his family grow their vines. We found Marcel out front, cigarette in hand, walking to-and-fro. He registered our presence only when we wandered over to introduce ourselves.

He was keen to ask after the health of all at our favourite London Wine Merchant’s and I assured him all were well and as active as ever at Goedhuis and Co. He proceeded to show us some vines, pointing out the Mâcon-Loché, Pouilly-Loché and Pouilly-Fuissé vines further up the hill before introducing us to his son and daughter. We wouldn’t mind tasting from ‘la pièce’ he asked?

‘C’est beaucoup plus intéressant!’ we agreed.

So off we went to his cave, pipette and glasses in hands. Everything Marcel produces is put in oak and his cellar was somewhat more sizeable than the average for the Mâconnais. We trialled the Mâcon-Loché and Pouilly-Loché from different casks of varying ages from new to 10 years old. It was a treat to taste the difference, cask to cask. A particular cuvée of Pouilly-Loché was a standout and Marcel joked that it was indeed a Mâcon-Meursault. We laughed along heartily. A good sense of humour he had and a splendid 2021.

Meanwhile Marcel’s son Auxence had taken somewhat of a liking to Club Lepidopterist Arnson who was goodly supping away sans spittoon. He charmed us all with his infectious smile. We were so thrilled by the tasting that the Club Lepidopterist decided we should pick up a case of Mâcon-Vinzelles 2020 to take back to the club for the afternoon’s degustation and I dare say it was a favourite with all.

Marcel informed us of the stock and bottle shortages, the latter he attributed to a factory in Ukraine where the things are made. Such administrative issues were being felt across the domains we had thus far visited.

On passing a little chapel and winery in Loché on our route home, we had time for a quick pit stop to try the wines of another domain, Domaine Luquet and we agreed there and then that Goedhuis and Co. had indeed chosen its stock wisely. After being spoiled in the morning, these wines didn’t cut the mustard and we made away with a single bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé, Club Captain Fraz, having to be held back from over-politeness by the more measured wisdom of the Club’s Lepidopterist. A quick lunch of steak tartare and oeufs en meurette followed, with a carafe of Viré-Clessé to freshen up the palette before the return to base.

Bin-ends

On one afternoon by the pool, we bumped into Christine of Domaine Saumaize-Michelin where I had worked the 2018 vendage. We had met her son Vivien earlier in the week who had told of the rapid vine growth over the last few weeks due to good weather. Like all winemakers he was terrified of the prospect of tennis ball-sized hail what with their being storms afoot most evenings. Christine was happy to see an old picker and we descended into a surreal conversation about London’s clubland, her wines being popular in some of St James’ finest. I let her know she was in good company when she recounted a story of her expulsion from the Travellers to a café across the road, I myself having been ejected from a club or two for appearing sans jacket dans the lounge.

I agreed to return to pick grapes in the near future and she hurried off returning with a 2017 Mâcon-Villages from the estate and a friend’s 2017 Volnay as a parting gift. She was adamant that despite stock shortages, price rises were not the answer. She felt them dishonest and was not interested in having wine sitting around for stock. They should be drunk after all.
And so it was time for a full-club tasting, Club Communication’s Executive Storey prepared the chilled bottles while Captain Frazer gave an introduction. We tried 20s and 21s, Pouilly-Fuissés, Mâcons and a couple of Beaujolais reds. Very much a summary of the Domaine’s we’d seen so far. Some were done blind, others in plain sight. Marcel’s Mâcon-Vinzelles remained a favourite and the Coudert’s Brouilly went down well. Even Club Sceptic Kendra couldn’t turn down a glass or six of Chardonnay. As the tasting came to a close, we raised our Bojo-lais glasses to all the back benchers who had voted to remove our premier that very day.

Towards the end of the trip on a warm and rainy day, we made our way to the old Cluny Abbey, home of the once pre-eminent Benedictine monastery in Europe. The club were not much impressed, and it wasn’t long before we longed to be back by the pool with a glass of chard in hand nibbling spicey olives. However, we did find the medieval wine cellars with beautiful, vaulted ceilings a joy to visit thanks to the quite extraordinary acoustics. At least an hour was spent exploring this cavernous room from which the club has aptly taken its name. Club Ventriloquist Caitlin and Club Sceptic Kendra’s harmonious duets were particularly moving and if one were to have only heard and not seen, one might have imagined these angelic tones were the work of an entire choir.

Having set out early in the trip to mount our favourite Roche daily, we made the pilgrimage in full only once. But on one fine evening, some of l'équipe set out for high ground to watch the first stars appear. We shared some wine and a cigarette at the foot of the limey cliff and soon Club Communication’s Executive Storey began to snore. Club Lepidopterist Isabelle and Club Captain Tom politely allowed this to go on for some time before Storey gently awakened and by the light of the moon we descended through vines to home.

It was time to depart, and all reflected on the success of the first Cluny Cellar Club outing. We promised to reconvene in London, parted ways thanking the President and Bacchus for a most inspiring and congenial trip.

Club Captain Frazer