Domaine J-F Mugnier Musigny Retrospective: 1993-2016
JAY MCINERNEY |
It’s very rare for Frédéric Mugnier to participate in a tasting of his own wines, let alone his Musigny, so when I heard a few days before the event that a spot was available at a vertical of 15 vintages, with Mugnier in attendance, I leapt at the chance. The tasting and a dinner was held at the home of the late Becky Wasserman and her husband, Russell Hone, in Bouilland, about 20 miles outside of Beaune, where much of the international Burgundy fraternity had gathered for Les Trois Glorieuses. Thankfully, the event gave me an excuse to skip the interminable dinner at the Clos de Vougeot, one of three events that anchor the November weekend, including the Hospices de Beaune barrel auction and the Paulée de Meursault. Wasserman was Mugnier’s American importer, but more than that, a mentor. “I learned more about Burgundy from her than from anyone else,” he told me, after we sat down at the dining table of the old farmhouse with its soaring ceiling and timber beams. (Several of us at the table expressed similar sentiments.) I was seated next to him, which was fortunate for me, not least because to describe Mugnier as soft-spoken is like describing Andre the Giant as tall—a radical understatement. He is a slight, balding, shy-seeming figure, albeit a giant among Burgundy producers. And Musigny is undoubtedly the Queen of Burgundy, one of the three or four greatest vineyards in the Cotes de Nuits. (Chambertin may be the King, while Romanée Conti is probably divine—literally out of this world.)
In France, we are still allowed to describe wines as feminine, which is inevitably done with Musigny and more specifically with Mugnier’s Musigny. I personally like to think of Musigny as Gene Tierney, the gorgeous, blue-blooded brunette, known in her time as the most beautiful woman in the world. Musigny is famed for its perfume, though in my experience this only develops after the first decade of its life and even longer in ripe vintages. Mugnier’s wines are particularly delicate and ethereal and light in color compared with other Musignys. De Vogüé, the largest owner of the vineyard, was, for several decades, in the opinion of many of us, over-oaked and over-extracted, although their Musignys prior to the ‘80s defined, and continue to define, the vineyard for so many enthusiasts, and a new winemaker seems to be turning the domain around. In big, ripe vintages, Mugnier’s wines will have a relatively deep color and tannic structure, but in general they are even daintier than most Chambolles, in an appellation known for its delicacy.
Born in 1955—a very good vintage indeed—Fred Mugnier took over his ancestral domain in 1985, after a career as an engineer. However, partly in response to the difficulty of supporting a family on 4 hectares of vineyards, he worked as a pilot for the French Airline TAT for a number of years thereafter. He gradually became more and more involved with the vineyards and in 1993 produced a celebrated Musigny which was the final wine of the evening in Bouilland. Though I have had mixed experience with this wine, I find it wonderful on this occasion, with ample secondary notes and the kind of spicy and floral notes on the nose that come with age. As with all the wines that evening, they have been unmoved since birth, residing either in the Mugnier or Wasserman cellars.
Mugnier said during the tasting that he is often asked when one should open his Musigny. “I say if the wine isn’t ready to drink after ten years then perhaps I have failed,” he said. In fact, some of these wines, like the 2016 and 2014, were certainly ready to drink and well developed. Some of the big, allegedly “great” vintages need more than a decade to unfurl. The 1999, which was not in the tasting but which I opened a few days later, like many Burgundies from that abundant vintage, has still not really blossomed. Based on my last three samples, I wonder if it ever will. Much better in my opinion is the ’98, almost certainly the wine of the vintage.
The twenty-first century vintages were a revelation for me, with many pleasant surprises. With the exception of 2006, which has elsewhere been defined as the wine of the vintage but on this occasion was two dimensional and a little clumsy, they were highly individual and delicious in varying degrees, even in maligned vintages like 2003, 2004 and 2011. Mugnier explained that he had just purchased a vibrating sorting table in ’02, which in 2004 resulted in a bonanza of ladybugs falling through the small holes, thereby largely salvaging the crop. He claimed he sorted out a hundred kilos of ladybugs. The famous infestation of 2004 certainly shows in other wines of the vintage. The greenness attributed to 2004 vintage also shows up in the 2011, although the wine has just enough fruit to almost balance it out, assuming you like the leafier, herbal side of Burgundy.
The riper vintages, 2015, 2009 and 2005, are surprisingly singular. To my mind the ‘15 is exuberant and fruit forward, kind of a Golden retriever puppy of a wine, dominated by dark fruit on the nose and the palate. Not the smartest wine in the class at this point, but it has all the qualities to develop beautifully. The ‘09 is much more complex and a little less flamboyant, still brooding and just a little backward. The '05 was probably the greatest wine of the tasting, and gave far more pleasure than I would have expected, given the backward nature of the vintage. I knew the wine by reputation but wondered if I would really get to experience its greatness in my lifetime. The answer is a resounding yes.
I got the impression that Mugnier likes the cooler vintages. “The idea of a great vintage is widely misunderstood,” he said, somewhat enigmatically. Since he said it while we were tasting the ’04 I think he meant that power and ripeness are not all. As for me, the three wines of the night were a surprise, the ‘16 leading the way, followed closely by the ‘14 and the ‘05. The former pair may not last the longest, and they are certainly less ripe and powerful than the ‘05 and others. But they seemed to me to be perfect expressions of the vineyard and of the balletic ideal of Burgundy. Since I lost my menu, I have mostly forgotten the food which accompanied the last eight vintages, as well as an intermezzo of white Nuits St. Georges from Clos de la Maréchale, but I won’t forget the wines—some of the greatest younger wines I have ever tasted.
Wines are listed in the order in which they were served.
