Today’s wine isn’t your typical summertime rosé. It’s not a lollipop of fruit, nor is it that watery pale pink style that, in many cases, actually tastes like water and pale pink. Loaded with vibrant acidity and mouthwatering fruits, today’s rosé is totally quenching; it’s deeply flavorful Pinot Noir and Gamay that happens to be salmon-tinged (not gray, or gris, at all, despite the name) and served chilled.
I wouldn’t call the vin gris style madly popular, but I also wouldn’t call it weird or unfamiliar. American winemakers, like Robert Sinskey and Randall Grahm have succeeded in creating a thirsty market for domestic
vin gris wines, which tend to be more spacious in the middle palate than their French counterparts. Today’s vin gris comes from its quintessential region, the tiny Côtes de Toul, and is made by its paramount producer, Domaine Migot. If your summer mood vacillates between light, chilled red and mineral, fresh white, the newly released 2018 Vin Gris from Migot will surely satisfy both sides of the spectrum.
Caught in an extreme northern gap between Champagne and Alsace, the Côtes de Toul belongs to the Lorraine region, which calls to mind quiche, not wine. As in most of France, the Romans were here and left their viticulture footprints, which led to a viable wine industry during the Renaissance (14th-17th centuries). Then, a crescendo of turmoil began: the ugly vine pest called phylloxera; the infiltration and ensuing competition of cheap wines from the Languedoc-Roussillon; and two World Wars (where lush green vineyards morphed into raw front lines). This tiny dot of an appellation—less than 250 acres, officially recognized in 1998—has survived on the fringe, both literally and figuratively.
Enter Camille Migot, whose family has been farming vineyards in the Côtes de Toul for 13 generations along the gentle slopes of the Moselle River. Sound familiar? This is the same “Mosel” which snakes through the great Riesling vineyards of neighboring Germany. The river originates in France’s Vosges mountains (just west of Alsace) and creeps north into the Lorraine before heading into Germany. Here, around the village of Toul, Pinot Noir and Gamay ripen leisurely in soils similar to those found in Burgundy: limestone under clay. Located much further north, the red berry flavors are delicate and just ripe, with nuances of white wine, waxy citrus, touch of cream and white flowers. Camille is farming organically (and is certified, a rarity for the region) and returning to his ancestors’ basics: natural yeasts, steel and used oak, and minimal filtering of the wines before bottling. He is letting the wines stand on their own, persuasive with crispy fruits, vivid acidity, and striking terroir that is reminiscent of Chablis.
A blend of 75% Pinot Noir and 25% Gamay, this is 100% hand-harvested, organic vin gris. A gentle crushing of the berries, followed by a very short maceration of the juice with its skins, leaves the finished wine with its pretty, see-through salmon hue. What’s nice about this wine is that it spends four months in stainless steel on its lees, allowing the wine to develop its waxy, creamy texture (versus the sea of rosé wines which are rushed to the US market in February/March, wafer-thin and watery). It has plenty to offer on the nose and palate, so don’t bury it in ice and water: let it warm-up to about 50 degrees before serving it in an all-purpose glass. On the nose, the wine expresses itself with fresh raspberries, cherries and cherry blossom, almond-y peach pit, dried rose, and orange peel. A sweet-saline, cold rain minerality endures through the palate, carried by the mini-waves of texture. The finish is crystalline, satiating, and crave-able. As temperatures rise, I can’t think of a better wine to have in my fridge for casual get-togethers and unfussy outdoor dinners. The best thing about vin gris, living in its netherworld of white-meets-red, is that it pairs with myriad foods, from spicy things to vegetables to chicken, fish, and salads (another reason why to keep some within uncorking reach). I love the Middle Eastern seasoning, za’atar, but it is intensely fragrant and requires a special kind of wine to wash down those big flavors. Hopefully we’ve already convinced you to drink lots of Domaine Migot Vin Gris, so why not take one more step, out of the box, into the wonderful world of atypical? Cheers!
