SommSelect Editorial Director David Lynch chimes in on the Cru Beaujolais phenomenon, the appeal of ‘natural’ wines, and what constitutes power in wine.
If you have not tasted the wines of Julien Sunier, now is your chance. He is making some of the best Cru Beaujolais on the market, which arrives here in painfully small amounts every fall (50 cases of this made it to the western US). What today’s wine demonstrates, as well as anything I’ve tasted recently, is how a wine does not need to be “big” to be powerful. Cru Beaujolais producers prove this repeatedly, but Sunier’s Régnié is still a standout. Maybe it’s the timing: I’ve been watching the Houston Astros storm through the MLB playoffs, led by a 5’6”, 170-ish-pound guy named José Altuve. He’s one of several ‘little guys’ in baseball (Mookie Betts of my Red Sox is another) who hits for serious power—blasting home runs off pitchers who often stand a foot taller and throw 100+ miles per hour. What does this have to do with wine, you ask? Well, for as long as I can remember, wine critics and consumers have tended to equate size with quality. We all know the proclivities of certain experts, and of the winemakers who aim to please them with hugely concentrated, lavishly oaked wines. But as I look (and taste) around, I see another movement afoot—namely, the American palate lightening up a bit. More notably, I see power in wine being measured not in weight but in energy. Sunier’s wines are medium-weight and lightly hued, yet penetrating and long-lasting (think Marcel Lapierre). They don’t coat the palate, they enliven it, and the amount of real breed here for the price just cannot be beat. Sadly, we can only offer 6 bottles per customer due to low availability.
Sunier is one of a new wave of producers who’ve helped raise the profile of Beaujolais as a stronghold of natural farming and winemaking. Following in the footsteps of local legends like Lapierre and Foillard, Sunier would also be considered a disciple of the legendary Jules Chauvet, who was preaching the natural wine gospel in Beaujolais as far back as the 1950s. Yet while he hails from Burgundy (Dijon), Sunier wasn’t from a wine family; his mother was a hairdresser who counted vigneron Christophe Roumier as a client. In his twenties, Sunier followed the itinerant “cellar rat” path, interning in California and New Zealand before landing back in Burgundy, where he worked with the likes of Nicolas Potel and Jean-Claude Rateau. He then worked for the large négociant firm Mommessin, where, among other things, he became intimately acquainted with the terroir of Beaujolais and its Gamay grape.
In 2005, Sunier purchased an old farm in the village of Avénas, in the northwest section of the cru Beaujolais zone, which sits at about 750 meters elevation on the edge of the forest. This is where his winery is now located, as well as a few vineyards, but his main holdings encompass about 10 acres across three Beaujolais crus—Morgon (including a piece of the “Corcelette” vineyard); Fleurie (where his plot sits at the top of the famed “La Madone” hill); and Régnié. The vineyard source for today’s Régnié bottling is a small, 1.5-hectare site called “En Oeillat,” where the vines average 50+ years of age and run up to the base of “Côte du Py” in neighboring Morgon. Soils are sand over pink granite, and farming has been organic since day one.
Whereas the 2015 vintage produced a slew of inky, dense, and, in many cases, atypical Cru Beaujolais wines, 2016 marked a return to more classical proportions. Sunier’s 2016 Régnié was fermented with indigenous yeasts in concrete vats, then aged in a combination of neutral French oak (80%) and concrete. In the glass, it’s a bright, rose-tinted ruby with pink reflections at the rim (no ink here!), with an expressive nose of wild strawberry, bing cherry, watermelon rind, cranberry, dried roses and violets, a delicate hint of white pepper and crushed rocks. His production methodology includes the use of whole grape clusters during fermentation, lending the wine spice and bounce on the palate—it is medium-bodied and lastingly fragrant, and, as with many modern-day natural wines, the effort to reduce (or eliminate) the addition of sulfur means that there is a little ‘gassiness’ (from trapped CO2, which acts as a preservative) when this wine is first opened. If drinking now, decant this wine 30-60 minutes before serving in Burgundy stems—it is fascinating to experience how it blossoms and smooths out in texture with time in the glass. This wine and will pair beautifully with all manner of bistro-style food. The citrusy twang in the attached recipe puts a nice twist on a classic. I want to eat/drink this every night! Cheers! — D.L.
