We’re trying to use sports analogies sparingly these days, but the phrase “in the zone” is especially apropos for Domaine Guy Robin. Over the course of our four years in business, each new vintage from this heritage producer has been more thrilling than the last. At every rung of the Chablis classification ladder—from “village” up to Grand Cru—Guy Robin can be counted on to deliver something bolder and more textured than most of its competition.
This starts in the vineyards, which in Robin’s case include an amazing collection of very old heirloom plantings, and continues with Marie-Ange Robin’s deft touch in the cellar—which, at the Grand Cru level, includes barrel fermentation and aging (not a given in Chablis, where many eschew wood across the board). Then, of course, are the prices, which remain shockingly low: Yes, Chablis remains one of the greatest values in fine wine, but when you experience this 2016 Vaudésir Grand Cru, its unparalleled value-for-dollar will become instantly clear. You could, as is often the case with Robin’s wines, enjoy a few bottles right now. And you can lay some down for 15-20 years. They let you have it both ways, and we love them for it!
This, as established subscribers are aware, has been reflected in our offers: Robin is a trusted go-to in one of my very favorite white wine regions. Namesake Guy Robin assembled most of the family’s holdings back in the 1960s, and these included significant stands of ‘pre-phylloxera’ vines—i.e., vineyards that were not destroyed during the phylloxera epidemic of the late-1800s. Although the phylloxera ‘louse’—an aphid that destroys the roots of vines—devastated the European wine industry (forcing vignerons to graft vines onto phylloxera-resistant American rootstocks), it wasn’t a complete annihilation. Some pockets of Europe were spared, especially spots with sandy and/or volcanic soil, but not exclusively: A good 80% of Robin’s modern-day vines are on their “own,” pre-phylloxera roots. Guy Robin never re-planted them (as so many Chablis houses did) to higher-yielding clones.
Nevertheless, there was a period when the domaine took its eye off the ball and the wines became decidedly mediocre—a slide that reversed course rapidly when Marie-Ange Robin arrived on the scene in the early 2000s. A successful fine art dealer in Paris, she returned home to the family estate and began tending their historic vines more naturally, using the lutte raisonnée method (essentially organic, except in emergencies). Some of the Robin holdings, which span five Grand Crus and four Premier Crus, are 80+ years old.
In classic Burgundian fashion, many of these holdings are also really small; the family’s piece of Vaudésir Grand Cru is all of half an acre, with 50-70-year-old vines enjoying a mostly full-south exposure. As Burgundy geeks know, the main orientation of the “Grand Cru row” in Chablis is southwest (except for the southernmost of the group, “Blanchot,” which faces east). Vaudésir, one of the higher-elevation Grand Crus, has an amphitheater shape and thus includes a section with a pure southerly aspect. The Robin parcel is predominantly south-facing, with a slight tilt to the west as you move downslope; soils are the classic mix of Kimmeridgian limestone and clay, which in Vaudésir skews a little more clayey, lending the wines a softer edge.
The 2016 Guy Robin Vaudésir Grand Cru was pressed from whole grape clusters and fermented on indigenous yeasts in French oak barrels (10% new). It then aged in barrel for a little under a year before being bottled unfined and unfiltered. In the glass, it’s a deep yellow-gold extending to a silvery green rim, and from nose to palate it’s all about generosity over austerity. Aromas of yellow apple, white peach, salted lemon, citrus, wet stone, and crushed oyster shells. Full-bodied (by Chablis standards) and wonderfully textured, it is also crisp and detailed, with plenty of freshness on the floral, fruity finish. It’s always tempting to blow through your Robin stash early, as the wines are relatively accessible in their youth, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this has the structure to age. My move will be to decant a bottle (or two) soon, giving the wine about 45 minutes to blossom aromatically and come up to a temperature of about 50-55 degrees. I’ll contentedly drink it alongside a simple poached or sautéed piece of sole and try to forget about the remaining bottles in my cellar for 10-15 years. Then I’ll do the whole thing again and be even more contented. Especially when I remember the price I paid! There are few sure things in life, but this is one—enjoy!
