Beaujolais Comes Into Its Own
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

George Duboeuf has been king of Beaujolais for a very long time; so long, in fact, that he was asked if he was a constitutional monarch or an absolute monarch during a lunch he hosted last week at Café Gray to introduce the excellent 2006 vintage of his region.
“Others have called me a king; not I,” Mr. Duboeuf said testily through an interpreter. More than 2 million cases of wine a year emblazoned with his name — produced at a beaujolais facility so vast that it makes the Pentagon look like a country cottage — suggest otherwise: His winery accounts for around 20% of Beaujolais’s production. But given the gentle price-to-quality ratio of his best bottles, as well as that of other unsung, far smaller, but no less dedicated producers, King George might best be called a benevolent monarch.
Beaujolais is authentic Burgundy, coming from the region’s southern end, and it has always been priced much lower than even mediocre wines from the glamour-swathed Côte d’Or to the north. Yet the gap has never been so disparate. Prices for the Côte d’Or’s 2005 vintage have risen to painful, even extortionate levels. When the 1997 vintage of Roumier’s Bonnes Mares was released in 2000, it seemed fully priced at $91. For the current 2004 vintage, Roumier has upped the price to $350. The elite of Beaujolais, on the other hand, tops out at just over $20, and most bottles cost less.
Defenders of Burgundy’s upper echelon will note that those wines are made from the noble pinot noir grape, while Beaujolais issues from the humble gamay. Granted that the sea of Beaujolais nouveau — redolent of dime-store banana candy — that arrives to ritualized fanfare each November is somewhere south of humble. But there exists another realm of “serious” Beaujolais that ennobles the gamay grape as nowhere else on earth. These wines come from a few of the 10 villages whose products are sold under their own names, particularly Moulin-a-Vent, Morgon, and Fleurie. As with superior wine anywhere, making top-tier beaujolais is a calling. “The fact is that nobody on the Côte d’Or is working at a higher level of commitment than the top growers in Beaujolais,” wine writer Josh Reynolds said in a phone interview. “These guys put maximum blood and sweat into their wines, even if the price doesn’t seem to justify it.”
What separates top-rung Beaujolais from November’s Kool-Aid quaff? Low-yielding vineyards produce deep berry flavors braced by minerality, and silky texture, with a beguiling but not shallow personality — and yes, no bananas. The best Beaujolais also has something that consumers increasingly value: a sense of origin. A delicate, faintly floral example from St. Amour, for example, would never be mistaken for a firm, deeper-flavored Morgon from a village just a short drive away. While all the better Beaujolais have their own nuances, they also manage to act like a brood of siblings. Despite differences, you know that they’re all related.
If the best Beaujolais is so worthy, why is it so cheap? Because there’s too much of it: The region produces 47% of all Burgundy wine, while the Côte d’Or produces less than 10%. Plus, it’s too much of the wrong kind. The 10 crus, as the top Beaujolais villages are called, represent only a fraction of region’s production. With all the hoopla over Beaujolais nouveau, these villages are pushed out of the limelight that they deserve. Yes, it’s an injustice that the most devoted growers of Beaujolais are penny poor while their brethren on the Côte d’Or rake in the dough. But don’t weep for them. Just buy the stuff. In all the world of wine, there’s no greater bargain.
RECOMMENDED WINES
Fleurie, Duboeuf, 2006 ($15, late spring arrival)
Of a dozen Beaujolais tasted last week at Café Gray, this was the standout. A scintillating blend of mixed berry fruit, the wine seems to vibrate with the energy of an excellent vintage. A case of this will bring a wallop of summer pleasure.
Moulin-a-Vent 2005, Drouhin ($16 at Zachys, zachys.com)
Granitic soils give this wine a firm foundation onto which to hang its deep black cherry flavor. Drouhin seems to excel at making wines relatively distant from its base in Beaune, just as it does with Chablis. Classy stuff.
Fleurie Poncié 2005, Domaine du Vissoux ($20 at Chambers Street Wines, chamberstreetwines.com).
Certain burgundies like Volnay and Vosne-Romanee are sometimes described as an iron fist in a velvet glove. Here’s a velvet fist in a velvet glove. If royal purple had a scent and flavor, it would be in this bottle.
Beaujolais “l’Ancien” 2005, Veilles Vignes, Jean-Paul Brun ($13 at Chambers Street Wines)
At first taste, this wine seems to lack intensity. But wait: In its unhurried way, the pure and gentle gamay fruit seeks out all the corners of your mouth.
Moulin-a-Vent “Domaine de la Tour du Bief 2003, Duboeuf ($11 at K&D Wines, kdwine.com)
Despite the brutal heat of the French summer of 2003, Beaujolais managed to avoid baked wines. Here’s one that’s both chewy and plush, and it will remain vital for a decade.