See my top wines
at the bottom of this article.
A wine tasting horde descended on Bordeaux last week. Around
3,000 wine merchants and wine critics, almost 30 per cent more
than last year and more than ever before, commuted frantically
from tasting table to tasting table to see what sort of wines
Europe's hottest summer ever produced in the world's most
important fine wine region.
American wine importers, apparently undeterred by the
unaccommodating dollar-euro exchange rate, were particularly
prevalent. Perhaps because they had bought the 2001s sparingly
and the 2002s hardly at all, not just because the growing
season was difficult but also because anti-French sentiment
was at its height a year ago, they felt confident that
their customers would have money to spend on this vintage, of
which much has been expected ever since last August's heatwave
headlines.
The wines are qualitatively more varied than in any previous
vintage I have known but by common consent the most successful
spot on Bordeaux's wine map by far was what we professionals
tend to call rather sloppily the northern Médoc, wine
estates around the town of Pauillac and, especially, the
village of St Estèphe. Châteaux Montrose, Lafite
and Cos d'Estournel, clustered on a usefully damp patch of
clay a good hour's drive north of the city of Bordeaux, all
excelled themselves this year.
Each of these famous Châteaux produced wines that manage
to be both classically long-lived Médoc yet with an extra
energy and brilliance that made them taste more like health
drinks than anything I have ever found in a health food shop.
Lafite is likely to cost, even those lucky wine lovers who
manage to buy it at opening prices, well over 100 or
$200 a bottle.
Yet just a few kilometres further north, in the real northern
Médoc, called just Médoc on wine labels, wine
producers are in a financial situation described as "a
catastrophe" by Jean-Guillaume Prats of Château Cos
d'Estournel.
In the last five or six years prices of basic red Médoc,
for long seen as one of Bordeaux's smarter appellations, have
fallen by more 50 per cent, from what the local growers still
call 20,000 francs a tonneau to 8-10,000 francs, a price for
bulk wine that, once blended into a merchant's brand or
supermarket's own label, would work out at the equivalent of
well under a pound or two dollars per bottle.
This sharp fall in price is a direct result of twin forces in
France and abroad. On export markets virtually all French wine
has been suffering because of competition from newer wine
producing countries, especially those of the New World. A ho-
hum wine labelled just Bordeaux or Médoc is now a much
harder sell than one carrying the name of an actively marketed
Shiraz or Chardonnay.
At the same time wine consumption within France, where two-
thirds of all bordeaux has habitually been drunk, was already
plummeting before a much tougher campaign against drinking and
driving, including highly visible roadside checks, was
instigated. And then there is the controversial Loi Evin,
the recent, health-inspired law which limits advertising
of alcohol within France to such an extent that the Bordeaux
wine growers [the Conseil Interprofessionnel du Vin de
Bordeaux] has just been fined because its new, surely rather
sensible, slogan 'Drink less but better' (Buvons moins, buvons
meilleur) was judged illegal because it "incited people to
purchase wine". Small wonder that the Bordeaux merchants are
buying less and less from the region's producers.
Life is tough for all of France's less famous vignerons but
those of Médoc are feeling a particular pinch. Partly
because there was much more land available on this, the left
rather than the right bank (of the Gironde estuary), the total
area of vineyard doubled to 15,000 hectares (37,500 acres) in
the last quarter of the 20th century, fuelled by what seemed
like unquenchable international demand for fine red bordeaux.
While their counterparts in the large Entre-Deux-Mers region
between the left and right banks have benefited from lower
production costs and some particularly dynamic co-ops,
Médoc wine producers have been caught by complacency and
heavy borrowings based on an outmoded financial model.
In the late 1990s when Asia was alight with enthusiasm for red
bordeaux, many Médoc producers invested in new equipment,
at a time when yields were generally higher than they can
afford to be today. As the market has shrunk, quality has had
to improve, which means that not only have prices slumped but
average yields have fallen from around 62 hectolitres per
hectare to closer to 55, and considerably less than in this in
the drought-shrunk year of 2003.
According to the outgoing president of the organisation
representing the Médoc's delightfully named crus
bourgeois, Dominique Hessel of Château Moulin a
Vent in Moulis and Château Tour Blanche in St Christoly-
Médoc, there are not yet begging bowls in the streets of
Pauillac but dramatic economies are being made. Since new
barrels represent once of the most sizeable outlays for any
wine producer, he says the most obvious losers are the
coopers. Smaller, less glamorous Châteaux can afford to
buy only 20 to 30 per cent new barrels whereas in the glory
days of the late 1990s they might have splashed out on 80 per
cent.
This contrast in economic fortunes between the world-famous
apex of the Bordeaux pyramid, the first growths like Lafite
and a few dozen of the best-known Châteaux, and the broad
base of also-rans which make up the bulk of wine produced in
Bordeaux is a fair reflection of the character of the 2003
vintage.
There are perhaps 40 really successful wines made in Bordeaux
after the sweltering summer of 2003, for which demand will be
extremely high. But the great majority of 2003s are either of
average or much lower than average quality and there will be
no queue of eager buyers for them. Even some of the classed
growths, the Médoc's supposed nobility located just below
first growths like Lafite and above the crus bourgeois, found
it difficult to sell their 2001s and almost impossible to sell
the unpopular 2002s, despite cutting prices. Proprietors at
all levels have become considerable and unwilling
stockholders.
So how will the 2003s be priced? Producers of the best wines
can probably afford to raise prices a little while such an
increase would be disastrous for the rest. But which of the
proud, status-conscious Château owners is going to so
publicly admit that theirs is not one of the finest 2003s?
They may like to use the argument that the 2003 crop was
small, even smaller than 2002's reduced level, but the
majority must know in their hearts and palates, if not their
pockets, that they have not produced great wine this year.
This is particularly true of the lighter soils of Pomerol
where yellow-leaved vines were visibly expiring even quite
early in August. Jacques and Fiona Thienpont made no friends
among their neighbours there when they announced there would
be no Le Pin this year. And I have never seen Jacques' cousin
Alexandre less upbeat than when showing me his 2003 at Vieux
Château Certan just round the corner. On the other hand,
Châteaux Lafleur and Eglise Clinet, hardly a spit away,
somehow managed to make quite thrilling Pomerol, with
Châteaux Petrus and Trotanoy thoroughly respectable too.
The plateau of St-Emilion, which is effectively an extension
of Pomerol, suffered equally and perhaps more disastrously in
view of its much greater extent. But again, this is by no
means an appellation to write off. Château Ausone on the
steep limestone slopes below the town on St-Emilion itself has
made probably its best wine ever - certainly the best wine of
the current regime led by Alain Vauthier. And pioneer 'garage
wine' Château de Valandraud, a wine I have sometimes found
too rich and uncomfortably concentrated in the past, seemed to
me refreshing and successful in 2003.
In sultry 2003 the refreshment factor is vital. What both of
these great St-Emilions have in common are an unusually high,
dominant proportion of lively, aromatic Cabernet Franc grapes
rather than the much more heat-affected Merlot and yields that
are almost as high as 30 hl/ha. Excessively low yields or,
heaven forfend, deliberate concentration of the must after
picking, which modish winemaking trick some properties
reportedly used even in 2003, only succeeded in making already
dangerously unbalanced, low-acid musts even more unbalanced.
If one generalisation can be made in one of Bordeaux's most
heterogeneous vintages it is that 2003 was a Cabernet and not
a Merlot year. The earlier-ripening Merlot vines, especially
young ones without deep roots, really struggled to find
sufficient water and it was Merlot grapes, which had already
turned colour before the worst of the heatwave in early
August, that were most likely to be burnt and shrivelled by
the merciless rays of the sun - especially in properties which
followed another fashionable practice designed to maximise
ripeness and, usually therefore, quality: thinning the vines'
leaves to allow more sunshine on to the berries.
Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc vines were at a much
less fragile stage of their development when France sweltered
most seriously. In fact several experienced winemakers still
seem almost mystified by how well their older Cabernet vines
withstood temperatures over 40 degrees Centigrade - virtually
unknown in this part of the world. Further proof perhaps that
Bordeaux really is the spiritual home of this well-travelled
grape variety.
They know that 2003 was not strictly not a drought year and
such problems as there were were caused by excess heat and
evaporation rather than by a shortage of underground moisture.
The water table had been usefully topped up by quite a wet
winter and rainfall in June, July and August was about average
at Bordeaux's central weather station. Useful, if highly
localised, showers towards the end of August restarted the
ripening process to develop flavour compounds and ripen the
tannins. Older Cabernet vines with deep roots, especially
those in damper, cooler soils such as those around St
Estèphe and Pauillac, continued against all the odds to
look remarkably green-leaved and healthy throughout the
season.
The most common fault in the least successful wines is sheer
lack of fruity middle and, sometimes, unappetisingly low
acidity. As acids fell, to record low levels, the sugars
reached unknown highs so that the precocious Merlots just had
to be picked - but there had not been time for the development
of either interesting flavours or gentle, ripe tannins. A
green streak on the finish spoils many a St Emilion and
Pomerol whereas, ironically enough, the troubled area in the
north of the Médoc, thanks to its cool soils, has produced
some of its best wine for years.
The Bordeaux market is notoriously cyclical and the last time
there was a similar crisis was as recently as the early 1990s.
But that "difficult" period, as the locals tend to call it,
was caused by global economic malaise rather than by today's
fundamental, and apparently long-term, shifts in buying
patterns. Today's Bordeaux wine map, and Château
ownership, may well change considerably over the next few
years - but this time Médoc estates are hardly likely
to be snapped up by insurance companies and banks. A more
likely lifeline may even be official financial help with
pulling up less promising vines - unthinkable as recently as
the late 1990s but now under discussion.
Subscribers to purple pages can find tasting notes and ratings on
hundreds
of 2003s.
My top 2003 wines
LEFT BANK
Ch Montrose
Ch Lafite
Ch Latour
Ch Cos d'Estournel
Ch Léoville Las Cases
Ch Léoville Poyferré
Ch Margaux
Ch Pichon Longueville (Comtesse)
Ch Pichon Longueville (Baron)
RIGHT BANK
Ch Ausone
Ch Lafleur
Ch Pétrus
Ch L'Eglise Clinet
Ch de Valandraud