The most important narrative in Champagne over the last five-plus years is how the focus in the region has shifted from Champagne as “beverage” to Champagne as “wine.” Whereas in the past Champagne was all about blending—and to a lesser extent, about the use of ‘dosage’ (sugar addition before final bottling) to determine house style—these days the conversation is more often about vineyards and terroir.
It’s not that single vineyards weren’t exalted in the past (witness Krug’s “Clos de Mesnil” or Philipponnat's “Clos des Goisses”), but the rise of small grower-producers has gotten us all to examine the map of Champagne much more closely. This tiny-production Champagne from Demarne-Frison is the product of just a few hectares of vines in the Aube sub-zone of the Champagne AOC—an outlying area in comparison to the better-known growing zones clustered around the hub city of Épernay. Soils in the Aube (which is closer to Chablis than it is to Épernay) are distinct from those in the ‘main’ part of Champagne to the north, and the area has become a source of some of the most distinctive, and yes, “vinous” bubblies on the market. This no-dosage powerhouse from Demarne-Frison is a spicy, earthy, expressive example of what the Aube is capable of, and, thanks to a rabid sommelier following, sells out quickly.
At one time, the Aube was a relatively anonymous source of grapes to suppliers up north around Épernay and Reims—“a sort of scullery in the elegant house of bubbly,” as the New York Times’ Eric Asimov put it, “essential to the smooth operation of Champagne, but best ignored.” When, in the early 1900s, the Champagne zone was being officially ‘delimited,’ there was a lot of debate as to whether the Aube, which lies southeast of the city of Troyes along the Aube River, should be included. Whereas the soils in ‘northern’ Champagne regions such as the Vallée de la Marne and Montagne de Reims are dominated by chalk from the Cretaceous period, the Aube’s soils contain more clay and marl along with Kimmeridgian limestone (like Chablis) from the Jurassic age. They are subtle differences, to be sure, but that’s what wine is all about, right?
Because of its physical and geological closeness to Burgundy, the Aube has bred a culture of vineyard-focused producers making “place-driven” styles of Champagne, and the market has eagerly responded—some of the better-known Aube names on sommeliers’ lips these days are Cédric Bouchard, Jacques Lassaigne, Vouette & Sorbée, and Guy de Forez. Some of the most compelling Champagnes I’ve had recently are from the Aube; we’ve offered quite a few, and one thing many of them share is a predominance of Pinot Noir. The higher concentration of clay in the Aube tends to favor Pinot Noir, and this wine from Demarne-Frison, while it doesn’t say so, is effectively a blanc de noirs.
Demarne-Frison takes its name from Thierry de Marne and Valérie Frison, who made wine together for six years from vineyards that came from Valérie’s family. These vineyards, which had been converted to organic viticulture in the early 2000s, totaled just six hectares—although some remained under contract with the local growers’ cooperative. The first commercially available Demarne-Frison wines were released in 2010, and in 2013, de Marne and Frison split up. Subsequent releases of this wine will have just her name, Valérie Frison, on the label.
“Goustan” is Valérie’s flagship wine, a Pinot Noir-dominated wine (there is only the tracest amount of Chardonnay) bottled without any added dosage (i.e. ‘Brut Nature’) or added sulfur. The signature of this property has always been to focus on ideal ripeness at harvest, rather than to pick early to preserve acidity and then correct later with sugar, as so many Champagne houses do. In the glass, this electrifying Champagne is a pale straw-gold with coppery reflections at the rim, its nose a mix of yellow and red apple, lemon, white cherry, crushed stones and an exotic note of baking spices. The palate is full yet firm, a substantial mouthful of wine full of both fruit and minerality. You will definitely pick up the “red fruit” notes typical of a blanc de noirs, and I’d advise leaving this wine in an open-mouthed flute or large all-purpose glass (maybe even a decanter) to allow the effervescence to dissipate. This is one of those vinous Champagnes I need to enjoy with food, and I thought the mix of flavors and textures in the attached scallop recipe would make for a great pairing. It almost goes without saying that this wine is built for a decade-plus of graceful aging. But I don’t think I’m going to wait. Enjoy!
