There are lots of incredible white wines in the world to get excited about. But if I were banished to the proverbial desert island and given just one type of white to drink for the rest of my days, it’d be white Burgundy.
Chardonnay grown in a magical place like Meursault really has it all: power and complexity; the mineral imprint of its place; and the capacity to evolve over time. Today’s Meursault from Christian Bellang & Fils is a textbook example of what sets white Burgundy apart—it’s delicious now but promises something new each time you open one over the next 10 years. This village-level wine is undoubtedly a ‘collectible,’ just not the kind of collectible one treats as some untouchable trophy; it’s more of what I’d call a cellar staple, one you can reach for periodically and know that it will deliver. Whether you have the means to make this your new ‘house’ Meursault or whether you’d simply like to work this textbook example of vintage and village into your wide-ranging rotation, this is an impeccable choice. After visiting with proprietor Christophe Bellang last year, we urgently arranged to get some his ’16s into our subscribers’ hands—this is a rising-star producer you’ll be seeing again!
As we’ve noted many times before, springtime frost damage in 2016 resulted in sharply reduced crop sizes across the Côte de Beaune—but the grapes that did make it to the fall produced opulent wines that are both delicious to enjoy now and possessed with enough tension for a good decade-plus of aging. I’d place Bellang’s among the more classically structured ’16s I’ve tasted: It is mouthwateringly fresh and leaves a big, stony mineral footprint on the palate, while also delivering a succulent mouthful of ripe fruit and a touch of cream and spice, too. In the glass, it’s a pale yellow-gold with hints of silver and green, starting out a little reticent on the nose but blossoming beautifully after 15-30 minutes in a decanter (more ‘reductive’ white Burgundies like this benefit immeasurably from time exposed to oxygen). When it opens up, aromas of yellow apple, salted lemon, lime skin, Anjou pear, a hint of fresh cream, wet stones, brown butter, and some subtle oak spice (it aged about a year in 25% new barrels) jump from the glass and invite you in. It is medium-bodied, taut, and invigorating at the moment, though you’ll notice it become creamier and more open-knit the longer it is open; the stuffing is definitely there for 10+ years of aging, so again, don’t hesitate to save some bottles for later. You won’t regret it, especially if you showcase it properly—be it a beautiful roast chicken, white-fleshed fish, or maybe the creamy, buttery blanquette de veau in the attached recipe. Yes, I mentioned “butter” twice in a Chardonnay offer—it isn’t always a dirty word, believe me!