New Wine
This week, we added wine from Alice Bouvot (l'Octavin) and Jean-François Ganevat to our shelves! Both are Jura winemaking royalty. Why do so many sommeliers have deep affection for the Jura, and the wine it produces? & why does Lauren?
Her story
One million years ago (c. 2008), I scraped together enough money from my serving job to take myself on my very first trip out of the country. I went to Paris, obviously. I found a place to stay via a new website called Airbnb, which was in its beta phase, and somehow decided it was probably fine to hand a stranger a fistful of cash in exchange for shelter. The apartment I rented in the 18th ended up being an actress' place, and it appeared she had played a supporting role in the French version of Law & Order: SVU. She wore Gucci Rush (which I obviously purchased for myself in Duty Free en route home). I almost burned her apartment down the first night I was there, but we're here to talk about the Jura.
Determined to "also go somewhere else" because I suffer from crippling FOMO that renders even Paris potentially not "enough," I decided to take the train to Alsace. It's cheese to say something like, "little did I know that that train ride would change my life forever," but LITTLE DID I KNOW.
I got off in Strasbourg and promptly remembered I had done absolutely no research about what I thought I might *do* there. I was just getting into wine thanks to the restaurant job, and I knew Alsace was a *place* that wine came from, but I didn't account for the fact that the train doesn't drop you in a Grand Cru vineyard. So I ate some spaetzle in a tourist restaurant and committed to wandering aimlessly until my train home.
Of course, I stumbled into one of France's most remarkable natural wine bars, because I'm telling a story and there'd be no point to this otherwise. This was juuuuuust before the natural wine wave hit the US—Frank Cornelissen was making his very first vintages (a VA-riddled story for another day), and Olivier Cousin wouldn't ride his draft horse on the steps of City Hall in protest of AOC regulations for another 5 years.
I was met by the young man whose family owned the bar, a tiny place called Terres À Vins that was mostly a lot of wine crates overflowing into a small cellar room. I recognized one label—Pierre Frick's Pinot Noir—and felt at once very undeservedly proud of myself and incredibly aware of the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. The very nice (and super cute, btw) man asked me if I needed help, and, like, I had just gotten off a train I thought would drop me in a vineyard UM YES I needed much more help than he could possibly provide. Naturally, I started sweating profusely.
In that moment, I came up with the trick I have since used MANY TIMES when faced with a situation in which I'm experiencing the full, crushing force of my social anxiety: I said, "I have 50 euros to spend!" (I didn't) "Give me 3 bottles of whatever you think I should take home!"
HERE'S THE JURA PART: Without hesitation, this very cute guy (what?) walked right over to a crate and pulled out one bottle of wine. "Ganevat," he said. "C'est ça."
He went on to tell me why what this Ganevat guy was doing was so unique—how he was working in this region called the Jura, which was practically untouched by modern winemaking influences because of its far-flung location in the foothills of the Alps, away from the trade routes that had made regions like Alsace more well-known, despite their own Alpine geography. He talked about how French people hadn't even heard of the Jura, but that he thought it was going to play an extremely important role in France's wine identity in the future. Producers like Ganevat were working with Chardonnay, but the Jura's terroir was producing wildly distinct expressions of the ubiquitous grape—"Comme un rêve," he said. Like a dream.
He talked about the lesser-known local varieties, like Trousseau and Poulsard, genetically ancient grapes that were unlike anything he had ever tasted. "Un peu sauvage," he said. "A little wild." (I like to think he winked suggestively at me at this point, but he did not.) He explained to me that, while producers from other regions often competed for how advanced their winemaking technology was, Jura producers prided themselves on who was the most traditional. How old their barrels were. How long they kept their Vin Jaune under flor. The Jura was pure terroir. It was a time capsule. It was everything. I didn't understand half of what he was saying at the time, but breathless passion doesn't need a translation. Whatever it was that was in those bottles, I wanted in.
And now here we are! Nearly 13 years later, on the other side of the pond, and the Jura has seen its hey stateside. A region whose wines I poured by the glass in previous establishments are now so allocated, we only get a few bottles a year. Jacques Puffeney has left us for another plane, the Jura has been declared by the climate-aware as “the next Burgundy,” and many producers count pét nat in their lineup of more traditional wines (not Bourdy, though, and don't ask him unless you want to experience the full fury of a very old-school dude). It's weird and sad and amazing and an honor to watch an entire region's identity crest and morph and become something entirely different than what it once was to the rest of the world. It’s like watching someone grow up.
I have deep affection for the Jura. Real, true love. It’s a special place producing special wines, and, as always, I’m deeply humbled to have them at Rebel Rebel.
I’m particularly proud to offer Ganevat, whose traditionalist methodology is unparalleled, and whose decision to work with purchased fruit from other regions is, as with many producers, a necessary response to the threat of climate change in his region. For many, Ganevat is the nexus—for me, he is the heart.
I’m also thrilled to have Alice Bouvot’s wines—Domaine de l’Octavin has been a courageous estate at the forefront of natural winemaking in the Jura, often willing to experiment with cépage and production methods in service to exploration. Their pét nat was one of the first from the region, and one of the first I ever had. If Ganevat’s wines are the heart, Alice’s are the mind; always curious, always ready for what’s next. They are rustic and challenging and often unexpected. And Alice is endlessly kind, which doesn’t hurt.
I hope you’ll enjoy these wines as much as I do. It’s the perfect year for them, with all the gorgeous New England root veg and braising greens filling our tables. As the days grow shorter, spend a long night meditating over one of these bottles while something simmers in the oven. I promise it will feed your soul.
*l'Octavin & Ganevat can be found in the "SPECIAL SAUCE" category
STUFF TO READ
WINE/INDUSTRY READING
The Shortcomings of Technically Perfect Wine
"If you like mousy wine great, and if you want a big VA bomb, that's great too – and if you really dig a big, buttery Chardonnay, do that! But who's to say that an excessively oaky and buttery Chardonnay is not flawed? How is making conventional wine that follows a recipe not considered a flaw?"
A great discussion of flaws in wine! A reminder personal preference is just that: personal. It's not objective or authoritative. I might hate mousiness or high sugar/high alcohol West Coast Cabs, but that doesn't mean you don't love them or that they're "flawed" or "bad."
Chinese Wine Tariffs will have Global Impact
"Last week, China announced tariffs on Australian wine of 107 percent to 212 percent. Australia's trade minister called it 'a devastating blow' to the country's wine industry, and said that it may make some wineries' business 'unviable.'"
2020, the year of the wine tariff.
Amid Sexual Harassment Scandal, Elite Wine Group Elects New Board
The Court of Master Sommeliers’ new leaders don’t look so different from the old. I agree with Karen MacNeil: “When an organization is seeded with pain and distrust, it’s difficult to restore from within."
Building Vineyard Biodiversity to Combat Climate Emergency
Why fungi matter!
"Mycorrhizal fungi filaments tunnel through the earth, taking available soil nutrients and converting them through enzymes into food for the vines. Mycorrhizal fungi expand as they mature, connecting all their surroundings—potentially hundreds of acres—and creating a food web that balances and strengthens the entire biome."
Cover crops, healthy bacteria, protozoa...biodiversity equals resilience, and resilient, healthy terroir equals delicious wine!