Two Bottles Bachelet

Whether we are particularly chaotic? No idea. I actually think that anyone who starts buying more than three bottles of wine knows the problem. There are boxes you never really unpack, you just move them from here to there and from there to somewhere else. And in doing so, they become a kind of beloved roommate, sometimes standing in the hallway, sometimes in the bedroom, sometimes next to the couch. Basically, wherever you don’t need to walk. And if such a roommate settles in for too long, you might even forget what you originally meant to unpack from the box. But it doesn’t bother you, whether it’s next to the couch, in the bedroom, or in the hallway. The two bottles today came from exactly such a box, one that was always a little bit but never quite in the way, and I had almost forgotten these two bottles existed. All the nicer when you finally take a look inside.

On just over 10 hectares, Jean-Claude Bachelet and his sons Benoît and Jean-Baptiste, who are now responsible for the winery, grow wine in Burgundy. The Bachelet family can look back on a tradition dating back to the 17th century, making them something of the opposite of the trendy newcomers. On these 10 hectares, they manage to produce wines from more than twice as many different vineyard sites and therefore offer a wide variety of wines. The vineyards are farmed organically, and the wines are aged in wood for an extended period. The wine from Chassagne-Montrachet comes from the Le Concis des Champs site, from vines between 40 and 60 years old, and is from the 2019 vintage. The wine from Saint-Aubin comes from the Derrière la Tour site, on a slope that is steep for the region, facing south, and is from the 2021 vintage. The site is classified as Premier Cru.

We start with the older wine from Chassagne-Montrachet. It has a lot of dark fruit, cherry, black berries, and behind that a few spices. At least as much fruit as you get on the nose also makes it onto the palate. However, the fruit is then swept away by a surprising amount of acidity, which, to be honest, I didn’t expect after so much almost sweet fruit. At the very back, a small portion of tannin says hello, but it’s pretty tame. This is one of those wines you just enjoy drinking. There’s a lot of wine here, the fruit is already dense on the nose, and you get the feeling that the viscosity is a bit higher than usual. A comfort wine. Which, to my surprise, doesn’t work at all with tomato-based meat ragout and pasta. It suddenly turns very harsh and tastes kind of strange. Live and learn, and waiting until after dinner to finish the rest of the glass is no problem.

It’s very similar on the second evening, and it accompanies the Dinnede (a type of swabian pizza) much more confidently than the pasta. The nose becomes earthier, more subdued, but basically loses nothing that was there the first evening. Dark berries, spices, and then a lot of drive, mostly coming from the acidity and hardly from the tannin. While many Pinots are trimmed to be lean and mineral, a wine like this, with so much fruit and intensity, might go against the current zeitgeist for some. But it’s so delicious, I couldn’t care less.

The Saint-Aubin is quite a contrast, especially on the first sip. Where you were just gently lulled by fruit, the slightly animal, reductive funk pulls you roughly back to reality. It’s noticeably leaner, cooler, and much more focused. Like the first wine, it brings everything from the nose onto the palate. The acidity feels much more direct, maybe a bit more aggressive. That might also be because there’s much less fruit up front. Behind that, again, there’s structure and spice. I like that wildness just as much as the comfort wine before. And it doesn’t stay wild for long anyway. With some air, the funk quickly turns into lots of fresh raspberry, but it always remains cooler and more restrained compared to the first wine.

That’s also how it stays on the second evening. Sinewy, cool, and a bit rough on the nose. With cherry, raspberries, and stone. 2021 was apparently a fairly average year climatically in Burgundy, but compared to the incredibly warm and dry years surrounding it, it now stands out as a noticeable dip. And 2019 was particularly warm and dry. The difference between the years fits so well with what I imagine the weather does to the wines and what I taste, that I just completely attribute it to that. And the difference is really quite enormous. 2019 is couch, TV on, brain off. 2021 demands attention, it shakes me up, pulls here a bit, pushes there a little. You don’t just stick your nose in the glass and start grinning, you have to be present yourself. The 2021 Saint-Aubin is certainly more exciting, but that doesn’t make it better. And as for judging which will age better, or even guessing a general direction, I still lack the experience with Burgundies. That two wines from the same producer, from the same grape variety, can be so different, that vintage and site have such an influence, that wine as a product has so much to offer and you can discover so much in such a small space, it’s still fascinating.

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