Two Bottles Gaël Petit
We are drinking two wines from the south of France by Gaël Petit: a Tavel Les Falaises de Braise Rosé 2022 and a Lirac Edmee 75 Helene 25 from 2020.
I am constantly preaching that you should drink beyond your own backyard. I try to do this myself again and again. Because where red wine from the south with 15 percent alcohol is still somewhat within the bounds of my own wine horizon, rosé with almost as much alcohol content is so far off that you need binoculars. And that’s exactly why these two bottles are on the table this week. Okay, maybe winter would have been the better season, but the planning didn’t go that far.
Tavel is a village and an appellation on the southern Rhône, located directly south of Lirac, which is also both a village and an appellation. For geographical orientation, Châteauneuf-du-Pape on the opposite side of the river is probably much better known. However, Tavel is an appellation in which only rosé is bottled under the label, making it a real rarity in viticulture. And just to put “the South” in perspective: in Kaiserstuhl, Germany, we have about 1,800 hours of sunshine per year, which is top for Germany, but in southern France, it’s another 1,000 more. The permitted grape varieties for wines in Tavel are the usual Rhône suspects, and in the bottle “Les Falaises de Braise” you get a cuvée of Grenache, Cinsault, Syrah, Mourvèdre, Bourboulenc, and Clairette. The Lirac is made from Cinsault, Grenache, and Syrah. Both bottles come from Domaine Moulin la Viguerie, owned by Gaël Petit.
Gaël Petit’s family has been rooted in the region since the 16th century. He himself took over the winery in 1992 and began converting operations to organic farming after just a few years. Since 2008, he has been bottling wines under his own name. Éric Pifferling of Domaine de l’Anglore, whose bottles I have seen many times though never had the chance to open one myself, had a great influence on how wine is made at the estate today. Given how rare and sought-after these wines are, that probably won’t change anytime soon, but who knows. As a result of this influence, the estate was certified organic in 2021. Gaël now cultivates about four hectares around Tavel and Lirac. The grapes are harvested by hand, spontaneously fermented with wild yeasts, and matured in used wooden casks.
The Tavel Rosé is extremely hard to pin down. Certainly because my mind simply lacks references for this wine. There is peach liqueur, lots of spice, everything seems rather dark, and tasted blind, this would definitely be a red wine. Not blind, it is too, though admittedly a very pale one in this case. You can taste the peach, there are notes of tobacco, some strawberry, fruit punch with lots of dark berries. It is intense, dense, and manages to integrate the alcohol well, it can’t quite hide it, but strikes a balance so that it’s not bothersome. You just can’t let the glass get too warm, or the balance starts to falter.
Not much happens overnight. The aromatics remain the same, as does the balance of intensity and alcohol. I really like the spice and the fruit, but at the same time, this is one of those wines you only want in your glass every few months. At least for me, because on the other side of the table the Tavel is an absolute hit. That’s also where the comment came from that it smells just like a Dark and Stormy, and indeed, if you keep that idea in your head and stick your nose in the glass, there’s something to it. There’s also Amaro, berries, and that woody, herbal spice. A fascinating wine, and I am very glad I ventured beyond my own boundaries for it.
The Lirac accidentally ended up in the fridge and now first needs to acclimate. Better too cold than too warm, as that settles on its own. When really cold, it only smells of black olives, at room temperature, not at all. Then there’s dark fruit, cherry, dark chocolate, leather, wood, and a few Haribo cherries. In the mouth, the tannins first really grab tongue. But acid, fruit, and salty spice quickly stand up to the tannin and actually make the half a percent more alcohol noticeably better hidden than in the rosé. Normally, 15% would be a good reason for me to steer well clear of the bottle, but somehow I’m really into it right now. The structure, the fruit, and the inner warmth the wine carries, it’s really good.
The Lirac becomes more ethereal the next day. Eucalyptus and wild herbs now steal the show from the fruit. I like the mouthfeel, I like the intensity and the tannins, but on this second evening it’s getting harder for the wine to hide its inner warmth. Maybe this really is a wine for winter and not so much for a warm late summer’s day. Or a wine for a pot of braised meat, or a stew. Things that aren’t on the table here in late summer. Today, I’d prefer it if the wine would turn the volume down from 11 to 10. But for one glass, for one glass it’s still really lovely tonight.