“Moët is not a machine”

Benoit Gouez, cellar master of Moët & Chandon, has spoken out about the LVMH-owned Champagne house, insisting it is not a volume-driven “machine." Speaking to the drinks business during a Moët Brut Impérial base wines tasting in London this week, Gouez said: “We’re not a big industrial machine that only cares about volume; we care about quality and detail.” Gouez was referring to his decision to stop the 2011 harvest for a week and send 800 pickers home while still paying them – a first in Moët’s history – to improve the chances of the vintage.

“I wanted to send a message out to the Champenois that we care about quality. The cost was an issue for financial people – the most important thing was whether I could get a vintage wine out of it. It paid off, but I still haven’t decided if I’m going to declare the 2011 vintage or not.” Gouez did admit however, that being a big company has its advantages.“ Bigger is better because it gives you access to the best grapes and buys you the luxury of choice. We were only able to stop the harvest because we’re big,” he said.

He admitted that he prefers the challenge of more difficult years like 2003 to easy years like 2002.“People should judge winemakers on difficult years – that’s where the skill comes in. It gets boring if things are too easy,” he said. Despite referring to it as “a piece of cake” to work with, Gouez described Chardonnay as the “biggest disappointment” in 2011, Pinot Noir as “light” and Pinot Meunier as a pleasant surprise. “Pinot Meunier developed nicely in 2011 and is showing a lovely purity on the mid-palate,” he said, defending the grape as having “a role to play” in Champagne.

“Pinot Meunier is the bridge between Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. You have to adapt your winemaking and treat it like a white grape in order to preserve its freshness and fruitiness,” he revealed. As to whether he would consider putting disgorgement dates on Moët Brut Impérial, Gouez doesn’t feel the public is ready for it. “A lot of consumers don’t even know the difference between vintage and non-vintage Champagne, so disgorgement dates are only going to confuse them further. They might think it’s a bottling date, or, even worse, a best before date,” he said, though did reveal that putting the information on a QR code on the back label was a possibility.

Speaking of the 2012 vintage, Gouez admitted conditions thus far have been challenging. “It won’t be a huge crop, that’s for sure, but the quality of a harvest is decided in the last few weeks before the grapes are picked, so we’ll have to wait and see,” he said. In the meantime, 2004 will be the next Moët vintage release, which will go on sale in the UK late August, with 2004 Rosé following in February 2013. Gouez describes the vintage as “racy, slick and elegant”, but lacking the power of 2003 and the richness of 2002, “dozens of thousands” of bottles of which have been kept back in the Moët cellars to be used in the Vintage Collection series. “We’ll see 2002 again,” he confirmed, revealing 2006 will be a vintage year, but not 2005, as he doesn’t believe the quality is there.

Gouez predicts however, that many Champagne houses will release 2005 to cash in on the success of the 2005 vintage in Bordeaux and Burgundy. Speaking of the 2009 vintage, Gouez glowingly compared it to 2002: “2009 was an easy year: ripe, clean, well balanced. There were no decisions to make, it’s already bottled. Keen to push Moët rosé in a big way in 2013, Gouez believes the house’s pink offering has been under the radar for too long. “We’re the leader in the category but nobody knows it,” he said. 

The Nightjar

One night before Christmas, I was lead through an understated wooden door on City Road in Old Street and down a steep staircase into London's best kept secret bar - the Nightjar.

Named after a long-winged nocturnal bird identified by its distinctive warble, whose eyes twinkle like torches at night, the Nightjar is a charming '30s-style speakeasy serving up some of the best-mixed and most beautifully presented rare and revived cocktails in the capital.

Entering the dimly-lit subterranean space, the clock is wound back to an era of gin and jazz. The clandestine drinking den exudes early 20th century glamour, prettified with Art Deco mirrors, a pressed tin ceiling and a glinting copper gin still. Lining the far end are arched booths fashioned from coal cellars, packed with nattily dressed lounge lovers.

Soon after I arrive a hush falls upon the bar, and a man with a mop of mad curls takes a seat at a grand piano and begins tinkering. A whippet-thin lady in a sequined headdress takes to the stage and begins belting out melancholic Berlin jazz. Husky, haunting, hypnotic; she has crowd transfixed. Live music is the Nightjar's lifeblood. The informal salon models itself on an early European cabaret venue, and the live line up on Thursday and Saturday nights ranges from Rhythm and Blues and New Orleans jazz, to boogaloo, ragtime and swing, while vintage vinyl is on rotation late Friday and Saturday nights – the Last Days of Decadence meets the House of Elliot.

Belle Epoque and Prohibition era cocktails using the latest liqueurs, bitters and botanicals abound on the 36-strong menu, displayed in both a gold-bound book and a deck of cards, interspersed with Nightjar heroes: Buster Keaton, Duke Ellington, Josephine Baker and Kiki de Montparnasse. Head mixologist Marian Beke, of The Langham fame, is at the top of his game. Each of the well considered cocktails on the list – including Hemingway's recipe for Islands in the Stream (Santa Teresa Claro rum, lime, green coconut water, angostura bitters and sugar since you ask), are mini masterpieces painstakingly laboured over and exquisitely presented in crystal glassware.

An ideal debauchery den for discerning drinkers, cocktails are taken incredibly seriously at the Nightjar, and thus, take a while to appear at your table. But I assure you they're worth the wait. On my visit I begin with a Ladybird, recommended by Beke. A mix of Santa Terersa Gran Reserva rum, lime, prune, Belgian truffle liqueur, Caribbean spices and orange bitters, the outside of the glass is dotted with chocolate (representing the ladybird's spots), which I dutifully lick off.

Shuffling the deck of cards and pulling one out at random, I move on to a BBC, a dark, decadent and deadly mix of Busnel Calvados VSOP, Becherovka cordial and Absinthe smoke served swimming in a huge ice ball. I've imbibed many a cocktail in my time, and the BBC is utterly unique. Smoky, sexy and seriously hard to drink any more than a sip of at a time, it's like drinking a bonfire sweetened by the blood of nymphs. While I recline languorously in my chair, feeling the effects of the green fairy, my drinking companion enjoys a playfully-titled Wibble, made with Plymouth gin, pink grapefruit, lemon and sugar.

The Nightjar is my secret find of late 2010. The Shoreditch speakeasy oozes laid back charm – its beauty lies in not trying too hard. A word of warning: don't come to the Nightjar if you're hungry. Aside from the customary almonds and olives, the simple bar snack menu includes courgette fritters, saucissons with cornichons, and cow's curd with Sherry vinegar and beetroot relish, but nothing substantial enough to fill up anyone with an appetite bigger than a sparrow.

The Nightjar, 129-131 City Road, London EC1V 1JB, +44 (0)20 7253 4101. Cocktails from £8.50.