The Magic of d’Auvenay: 1989 – 2011
BY NEAL MARTIN |
Which bottle turned you on to white Burgundy? Name, rank and number. Mine happened to be one of the most elusive and expensive bottles in existence. It must have been circa 1998 when I was working as an employee of a Japanese importing company, learning the ropes and training my fledgling palate. We dealt with a Dutch merchant and I had flown over to barter down prices for our monthly mail-order catalogue, after which we dined at a local restaurant for obligatory mussels and pommes frîtes. Towards the end of the evening, in strode my host’s brother having driven directly from the Côte d’Or. He wore a Cheshire cat grin and brandished a bottle that he insisted I taste because it was so special. I read the label.
Name: Domaine d’Auvenay.
Rank: Chevalier-Montrachet Grand Cru.
Number: 1996.
He asked if I was familiar with d’Auvenay. I shook my head. He mentioned Lalou Bize-Leroy and I just sat there with a blank expression on my face. Who? As I said, I was still learning who the gods and goddesses of the wine world were. I took a large sip. It was like a thunderbolt hitting my senses: the tension, the complexity and intensity sent shivers down my spine. It was difficult to put down in words, yet this wine became instantly and indelibly etched onto my brain. Now I understood why oenophiles genuflected at the altar of white Burgundy. “You’re unlikely to ever drink it again, so enjoy it,” he advised and generously topped up my glass. And you know what? He was right. After that night I only drank d’Auvenay wines in maybe two or three occasions over many years and yet I would never forget that epiphany.
Fast forward nigh on 20 years and I am on vacation visiting friends in Hong Kong on the cusp of a wine tasting that exists on that liminal point between reality and impossibility. But it is happening. One of its members is a lovely fellow with impeccable taste and certifiably obsessed with Domaine d’Auvenay. I reckon his bedroom wall must be plastered with posters of Lalou Bize-Leroy posing amongst her vines with a pair of secateurs and her yapping dogs. This gentleman, who I shall give the nom de plume “Mr. d'Auvenay”, spent many years traveling to Tokyo on business, where he would drop in at Takashimaya. This well-known Japanese department store was and still is a shareholder in Mme. Bize-Leroy’s company and unsurprisingly their main store boasted an array of d’Auvenay and Leroy wines. Mr. d’Auvenay told me back then these wines were expensive, but far from their current astronomic price tags. This evening he planned to share some of his collection with friends and to make it extra special, the bottles focused on d’Auvenay’s Grand Crus: Chevalier-Montrachet, Bonnes-Mares and Mazis-Chambertin – wines so rare you fear the entire production could evaporate merely by mentioning their names.
Subscriber Access Only
or Sign Up
It was like a thunderbolt hitting my senses: the tension, the complexity and intensity sent shivers down my spine. It was difficult to put down in words, yet this wine became instantly and indelibly etched onto my brain. Now I understood why oenophiles genuflected at the altar of white Burgundy.
