If we’ve been doing our job right around here, the sight of the word “Passetoutgrain” on a Burgundy label should provoke an instant, Pavlovian response in the reader. But, just in case, here’s a reminder of the mouth-watering pleasure that awaits you here, courtesy of the great Domaine Sylvain Morey: “Passetoutgrain”—sometimes spelled “Passe-Tout-Grain”— translates roughly to “throw it all together,” and its existence as an officially codified appellation wine (AOC) speaks to the fact that vineyards in Burgundy were often “co-planted” to many different grapes.
Back in the days when Burgundy was an even colder, more marginal climate than it is now, Passetoutgrain served a valuable purpose as a wine to consume young, while the more austere, pure Pinot Noir wines came together in barrel. It is, in short, the kind of wine the winemakers themselves want to drink, so much so that they continue to put their versions out there despite the vastly greater commercial prospects of varietal Pinot Noir. They believe in it as an authentic expression of Burgundian terroir, and so do we, especially when it comes from an acknowledged mater like Sylvain Morey—a name that will surely ring a bell for all serious Burgundy lovers. While Sylvain’s Chassagne-Montrachet wines stand as some of the appellation’s most sought-after bottles, few people know that three precious barrels of Passetoutgrain sleep quietly in his antique cellar every year. It’s one of just a handful of commercially available Passetoutgrain bottlings around—and, in my view, it merits searching out just as much as a tiny-production Grand Cru. The price is certainly right, and believe me, the payoff is huge!
We’re always quick to remind you that Beaujolais is part of Burgundy and that Beaujolais reds from the Gamay grape are indeed “red Burgundies.” A lot of wine lovers (and makers) willfully ignore this, given the universal reverence of Pinot Noir, and this isn’t anything new—Gamay, which is literally the spawn of Pinot Noir, has always been the lesser-regarded grape, even though it was easier to grow (and therefore tempting for many to plant). And while we tend to think of Gamay as being sequestered down in Beaujolais, it is still found in vineyards throughout Burgundy—not just in the more southerly reaches near Beaujolais but in the Côte de Beaune and Côte de Nuits as well. It may have more of a “country wine” image, but some producers, like Morey, devote some expensive real estate to it.
Sylvain is a visionary who was trained by two formidable old-schoolers (his father Jean-Marc Morey and his grandfather Albert Morey) in the vines of his native Chassagne-Montrachet. He moved to the Luberon region of France and started Bastide du Claux, an ambitious project that earned him comparisons to the great Olivier Jullien or Vincent Goumard—both pioneers in their own rights. Sylvain the prodigal son returned to Burgundy after Jean-Marc’s retirement in 2014 to take over half of his father’s acreage, the other half going to his sister, Caroline, in keeping with Burgundian inheritance laws. Today, Sylvain oversees just under 10 acres. He brought back some of the Luberon’s freedom and possibility to the insular Cote d’Or, and uses his dual insider/outsider status to examine his family’s old vines with fresh eyes. Every one of his wines creates serious buzz; the Morey name guarantees an unforgettable bottle and that goes for the Passetoutgrain just as it does for the Premier Crus!
The Pinot Noir and Gamay grapes for the Passetoutgrain come from two microscopic parcels planted just below the plain of Chassagne by Sylvain’s grandfather in 1952 and 1961. In keeping with the Passetoutgrain AOC’s regulations, the final blend of Gamay to Pinot Noir is 67% to 33%. It’s easy to assume the Gamay will eclipse the Pinot Noir, but both varieties are so full of personality that they seem to dance a perfect tango across your palate. Grapes are entirely de-stemmed before undergoing a two-day cold soak, spontaneous fermentation, and 19 whole months in neutral oak—a significant portion longer than most winemakers are willing to allocate to a relatively humble bottling.
True to form, Sylvain’s Passetoutgrain is a lithe, fresh wine brimming with personality and exuberant red fruits. That’s about where the similarities end, though. Where most Passetoutgrain are pretty straight forward, Sylvain’s is deep and evocative, more closely related to Chassagne’s complexity and balance than Beaujolais’ juiciness. Decant it for 30 minutes before diving your nose into aromas of fresh-crushed rose petals, wild strawberries, and slushy cranberry concentrate. The 2018 has great lift and freshness, each ounce of red fruit going toe-to-toe with an equal dose of bright minerals, petrichor, and flowers. There’s a delicate talc-like texture to the mid-palate tannins, and enough acidity to promise at least five of happy aging in the cellar. But let’s be real: this wine isn’t going to last the weekend. There’s too much pleasure to be had in pouring a glass and slicing into a piping-hot chicken pot pie. The late October chills don’t stand a chance against this joyful bottle of Morey magic.
