Dauvissat Chablis Les Clos: 1983-2015
BY STEPHEN TANZER |
Here’s a riddle: Who doesn’t travel much but is virtually never at home? One obvious answer would be Vincent Dauvissat, who is at his most content working in his vineyards and letting the world come to his cellar. For nearly 20 years, I routinely scheduled my annual early-June visit to Dauvissat at 6:00 in the evening, at his request, and if I happened to arrive early, it was a good bet that Dauvissat would not be there yet. Sure enough, he would soon pull into his driveway, back from a full afternoon in the vines, and after quickly washing his hands, changing his clothes and grabbing a jacket he would lead me down the steep flight of slick stone steps into his cellar of delights.
Like his cousins the Raveneaus around the corner in the village of Chablis, Dauvissat is a classic traditionalist who’s happy to let his wines speak for themselves. And like the Raveneaus’ wines, Dauvissat’s wines are utterly essential items on the wine lists of France’s three-star restaurants, as in many, many other restaurants around the wine-drinking world, so finding more than the odd bottle or three in the retail marketplace can be a challenge.
Dauvissat's mid-slope holdings on deep marl soil
Not To Belabor the Obvious but . . .
You may note that my scores in this article, on average, are a bit higher for Dauvissat’s Les Clos than for the vintages of Raveneau’s Montée de Tonnerre that were included in my vertical tasting published on Vinous in August. (I tasted both sets of wines on the same day this past spring at the estates.) That’s entirely as it should be, as we’re comparing the top grand cru of Chablis to its finest premier cru. I would love someday to taste a dozen or more vintages of Les Clos from Dauvissat and Raveneau côte à côte. The next best face-off would be Raveneau’s splendid Montée de Tonnerre alongside Dauvissat’s top premier cru, his remarkably rich and nuanced La Forest. Both of these premier cru bottlings could be described as their respective estates’ flagship wines in terms of the size of their vineyard holdings and annual production.
For old-timers, choosing between Dauvissat and Raveneau is analogous to the eternal Mantle-or-Mays debate (I’m dating myself) in which neither side is wrong. In any given year, either or both estates can make stunningly complex and ageworthy Chablis that transcends Chardonnay, and in most vintages they both do. Both have been family-run domaines since they were established, and both own a number of superb sites. (Dauvissat’s other grand cru, Les Preuses, is, according to my notes, the finest example made from this vineyard.) And at both estates, the next generation is in the process of taking up the reins.
From cellar to kitchen - a Dauvissat Chablis Les Clos vertical back to 1983
Four Generations of Dauvissats
Vincent Dauvissat’s grandfather Robert was a vigneron in Chablis during the 1920s and he bottled his own wine for the first time from vintage 1931 (he was one of the first domain bottlers in Chablis). Robert began with just 70 ares of La Forest and 30 ares of Clos—in other words, just a single hectare of vines.
Vincent Dauvissat’s stunningly consistent grand cru Les Clos is a textbook example of the complexity, minerality and longevity Chardonnay can achieve in the exceptional terroirs and cool northerly climate of Chablis. This vertical encompassed a remarkable range of wines all the way back to 1983.
