Champagne Bollinger in pictures

After lunching on lemony scallops in a natural wine bar in Paris, we arrived at the impressive Bollinger HQ in Aÿ, made more magnificent by a bright blue, cloudless sky. Founded in 1829, the company is one of the last Champagne houses to still be family-owned, remaining under the watchful eye of Madame Lily Bollinger from 1941-1971. The majority of the grapes that go into Bollinger's cuvées come from Grand Cru and Premier Cru villages, as we were soon to find out...

Dropping our bags off, we hopped in a 4x4 and were taken on a tour of the Bollinger vineyards. Unusually in Champagne, the company owns 60% of its vineyards, 60% of which are planted with Pinot Noir and 40% with Chardonnay, as Bollinger favours the richness and body Pinot Noir brings to the blend. The little house you can see in the distance is for the grape growers and pickers to take shelter in when it rains. They also serve as a water source, as each are home to a well.

Striking a pose in front of a very special vineyard: Clos des Chaudes Terres, meaning the clos of warm earth – a walled, ungrafted, 100% Pinot Noir vineyard worked by hand behind Bollinger HQ in Aÿ, which, along with the neighbouring Clos St Jacques, nurture the Pinot grapes for the incredibly special Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Français, of which only 2,000 bottles are made in exceptional vintages.

No mention of Bollinger would be complete without a hat tip to James Bond. At the entrance to the house behind glass is one of the famous Bollinger Bond Walther PPK bullet Champagne coolers made to celebrate the launch of Quantum of Solace. Over dinner, president Jérôme Philipon admitted that Bollinger's association with the secret agent was helping to boost sales of the brand in Asia, and revealed that the company will launch a couple of Bond-branded bottlings this October to coincide with the Skyfall premiere in London.

From bullets to cars – I spotted this rather fetching Bollinger branded Mini in the Bolly HQ car park.

Having watched Bollinger's award winning master cooper in action, noisily hammering one of their French oak barrels into shape, I took a moment to enjoy the sunshine streaming into the courtyard.

Later that day, we were treated to dinner at Madame Bollinger's house, which has been kept exactly the same as when she lived in it, kicking off the evening with a chilled glass of Grand Cuvée. If you look closely, you'll spot our affable host, Elizabeth Ferguson of Mentzendorff.

The scene is set for our night of revelry 

I spotted a pair of wild boar heads proudly mounted on the drawing room wall – legend has it that wild boar still roam the forests of Champagne. I failed to spot any on my visit, but I did hear an ominous rustling coming from the woods next to Bollinger's highest vines.

Kate Powell, aka The Wine Chick, got a shock when she lifted what she thought was a prayer chair prettifying Madame Bollinger's drawing room and found an adult potty – curiouser and curiouser.

Bollinger president Jérôme Philipon holds court over dinner with his ebullient harem. He can be seen pouring a bottle of the near-mythical Vieilles Vignes 1997, which he presented as a blind tasting. 

Our feast kicked off in earnest with a delectable starter of crab cake in a yuzu (Japanese citrus) and coriander sauce decorated with salad leaves and an edible yellow pansy. Such a wonderful start to the meal, the yuzu lifted the crab and gave the dish a lovely freshness, while the accompanying La Grande Année Rosé 2004 had its own floral characterisitcs, along with notes of wild strawberry and mint. 

Next up were silky, crispy slithers of red mullet in a creamy sauce paired with La Grande Année 2002. The richness of the cream sauce paired wonderfully with the rich, biscuity 2002 - one of the greatest Champagne vintages in living memory. 

Dessert was a raspberry tart on a sesame biscuit base with vanilla mousse and a strawberry macaroon. Exquisitely presented, the textured biscuit base complemented the sharp tang of the raspberries, which in turn paired beautifully with the summer fruit-filled NV Rosé.

My food and wine pairing of the night however, was the Bernard Anthony aged Comté with Bollinger R.D. 1995. Words cannot do justice to the majesty of the pairing, the grainy, nutty, almost toffee-like Comté holding its own against the might of the rich, intense, hazlenut-filled R.D. Both the cheese and the Champagne displayed an almost Sherry-like sweetness and complemented each other so cleverly. It remains my ultimate food and wine match, which I doubt can ever be bettered. 

Our final treat was a glass of the super rare Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Françaises 1997, which Jérôme was incredibly kind to open. I'd dropped a large number of hints about my desire to try it on Twitter, though never believed I actually would. The nose was unlike any Champagne I've ever tried: savoury, earthy, intense and truffly; the Pinot Noir really showed through. On the palate, it seemed more like a still wine and had a real vinous character, the earthiness remaining, along with the slight presence of tannin and an incredibly long and pleasing nutty finish. Drinking it at Madame Bollinger's house only heightened the enjoyment of this rough diamond. 

After all that excitement, it was time for bed, and what more fitting way to sleep, having been treated like a princess, than in a four poster bed. I could get used to being under Bollinger's wing. Waking up the next morning, I had to be dragged onto the Eurostar back to London.

Château Guiraud awarded organic logo

Grand Cru Sauternes Château Guiraud has been awarded the Agriculture Biologique (AB) farming logo – France’s national logo for organic products since 1985. As reported on thedrinksbusiness.com, The 2011 vintage will be the first Grand Cru Sauternes to carry the logo, and one of the only châteaux in the Bordeaux 1855 classification to be certified organic. Products carrying the logo must contain more than 95% organic components, and be produced within the EU.

The château started to experiment with organic farming 15 years ago and today uses no artificial pesticides, fertilisers or herbicides in the production of the sweet wine. In 1996, fed up with constant chemical treatment of his own private 15 hectares of vineyards, director of the property Xavier Planty decided he wanted to work differently. Learning the ropes with a 12ha vineyard, he suffered a number of setbacks, but working alongside an agricultural engineer, he began to regenerate the soil with liquid manure to replenish the grassy vegetation that grows naturally around vine stock.

“Rather than feed the soil with fertiliser, we feed it with bacteria; it’s easy to go bio,” Planty said. “Illnesses such as mildew are closely monitored, and with weather conditions known up to a week in advance, treatment can be giving preventively. It’s incredible to see how the fauna and flora have returned,” he added. An insect census of Château Guiraud’s 100 hectares of vineyards found 635 different varieties, compared to fewer than 200 in “conventional” vineyards.

To help expand biodiversity, 3.7 miles of hedges have been planted to help protect insects and feed them in spring. The multiplication of insects which feed on vine predators has allowed Planty to dispense completely with insecticides since 2004. While Guiraud was the first Bordeaux grand cru to experiment with organic growing, Saint-Emilion Grand Cru Château Fonroque was first to win the organic label in 2006.

The Aquitaine region is the third largest in France to experiment with organic vineyards, behind Languedoc-Roussillon and Provence in southwestern and southern France respectively. Aquitaine now has 300 organic-certified estates and 400 working towards certification. Organic vineyard area in France doubled between 2007 and 2010, then increased again by 28% between 2009 and 2010 to 50,268 hectares.

Champagne

A rhinoceros is not something you’d associate with Champagne. The odd-toed ungulate and northeastern French wine region seemingly have very little in common, and yet in the space of three days, I had two encounters with the African animal – the first housed within an imposing painting hung above the bed on my hotel room wall, and the second in the form of a gargoyle jutting out from the Notre-Dame de Reims cathedral. A symbol of fertility and courage, it was hoped that the rhino’s presence on the façade would imbue worshiping kings with physical and mental strength.

My journey to the land of bubbles begins in a civilized manner on a Sunday morning with a slender flute of ice-cold Gosset and a platter of aphrodisiacal oysters, so fresh you could clean your contacts in them, at the St Pancras Grand Champagne Bar in King’s Cross – the longest bar in Europe. Joined by fellow Champagne socialites Douglas Blyde and Denise Medrano, affectionately known as The Wine Sleuth, our fizz lesson continues in earnest aboard the Eurostar – in a carriage populated with beshrouded women festooned with bangles, with shot glasses of Champagne Pannier.

Ninety miles northeast of Paris, Champagne is France’s most northerly appellation. Curiously, the predominantly white sparkling wine is made from two black grapes – Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier (a relative of Pinot Noir), and one white: Chardonnay. Each of the grapes brings something different to the sorting table – the Pinot Noir backbone, the Pinot Meunier fruit and the Chardonnay freshness, leading to a complex and attractive final blend. Champagne can also be made solely with Chardonnay (Blanc de Blancs) or the two black grapes (Blanc de Noirs). All sparkling wine starts life still. With Champagne, the fizz occurs in the bottle when a secondary fermentation takes place after sugar and yeast are added. The yeasts devour the sugar, converting it into alcohol and carbon dioxide.

A word bandied about daily in the wine press is “terroir”, loosely translated as “a sense of place”, and used to describe the special characteristics that the geography, geology and climate of a region bestow upon its grape varieties. Champagne’s terrain is made up of deep layers of chalk, which often translates into the wines in the form of a steely mineral core. Of its 319 villages, a mere 17 have been designated as “Grand Cru” sites, which include Bouzy, Äy and Le Mesnil. Like Sherry, Champagne runs the gamut of styles from bone dry Zero Dosage to Doux, a sweet dessert wine.

But enough with the science. Our first pit stop is with small grower Champagne Henriet-Bazin in Villers-Marmery. We enter a domestic space populated with painted landscapes, a twig-filled fireplace and a giant urn in the far corner. A comforting smell of home cooking saunters through the kitchen door. Proprietor Nicolas Rainon’s wife is passionate about daring food pairings for Champagne, and seems keen to try out her latest discoveries on us, beginning with salt marsh lamb paté and Blanc de Blancs Brut, which works surprisingly well – the saltiness of the lamb complimenting the saline mineral notes in the wine. The most ambitious match of the meal was attempting to pit their Blanc de Noirs against the might of Boeuf Bourguignon, which was always doomed to fail, but the grainy pear tart and Rosé Brut combination is inspired.

Post feast, I’m licked hello by tiny winery dog Estéphe, named after the Left Bank Bordeaux commune. As proud as the Champenois are, I’m surprised he hasn’t been crowned with a name like Epernay. Nicolas ushers us into his scuffed 4 x 4, navigating the narrow streets into a forest where only he dares drive. After a perilous few minutes, we reach a clearing and are within touching distance of the vines. Shafts of afternoon light beam on the leaves, making them glow a vibrant green. After careering down a hill capable of totaling both us and the car, we pass a glass-fronted lighthouse and the iconic Mumm windmill, which plays host to A-list private parties.

Before death becomes us, we move swiftly on to Champagne Ployez-Jacquemart in the sleepy village of Ludes, where we’re greeted by gregarious proprietor Madame Laurence Ployez, resplendent in red. Bought in 1930 by her grandfather, the estate boasts an adorable B&B pregnant with flowers, which housed British soldiers during the Second World War, and safeguarded German soldiers after. A “Kill Hitler” scribbling written by a British soldier in 1939 is still visible in one of the rooms. When German soldiers besieged Ludes, the Ployez family fled to Pompadour in Southern France, building a wall between their two cellars before they left, in which to hide their belongings from looters.

After a tour of the cavernous cellars straight from the pages of an Edgar Allan Poe short story, we sit out on the terrace, glass in hand, sun dipping deep, and indulge in Madame’s exquisite pastries while furry-footed chickens roam the well manicured lawn. The pair of Prestige Cuvées we try – 1996 and 1998 Liesse d’Harbonville are an exciting discovery. Elegant, poised and textured, they could hold their own against any of the Grandes Marques.

Capping off our adventure, we pay a visit to Champagne Jacquesson the next morning, run by brothers Jean-Hervé and Laurent Chiquet. With a production of 300,000 bottles a year, Jacquesson bridges the gap between Grande Marque and grower Champagne. A hybrid of Vito Corleone and Jean-Paul Belmondo, we’re given a tour by the charismatic and outspoken Jean-Hervé, who proudly shows us his Chardonnay grapes being crushed to a soundtrack of Simon & Garfunkel.

A coach cruises past the estate filled with raucous rogues tooting foghorns and screaming with glee. I presume a stag party has lost its way. “They’re our pickers,” says Chiquet. “They’ve just finished and are celebrating the end of the harvest.” Chiquet is audacious in his winemaking approach, shunning the idea of a house style in favour of producing the best wine he can each year from the grapes he’s grown. “There’s no point trying to imitate the big guys, I want to stand out from the crowd.”

Before hopping back on the Eurostar, we make a pilgrimage to the breathtakingly beautiful 13th century Notre-Dame de Reims cathedral. Inside, the interiors burn with jewel-like hues from a sea of stained glass. In one window, I spot Benedictine monk Dom Pérignon (after which the famous fizz is named) indulging in a spot of riddling, and in another, soaring saints by French painter Marc Chagall, but sadly, not a violin-playing goat in sight.