Blending in Bordeaux

So this is the second stab at writing this post. I was rudely interrupted the first time by a shockingly loud alarm blasting in our hotel room in Bordeaux. A call to the front desk suggested we needed to leave ASAP while they investigated the source of So Much Noise. Meanwhile, an English-speaking housekeeping staff person said their manager told them it was safe to keep working. So, Rob and I stood in a less alarming room of our hotel, arms full of essentials (passports, phone, computer, chargers, and Piglet), chatting with two friendly housekeepers as we waited for the “all clear.” Best guess is the kitchen had a little cooking oopsie.

Concerningly, this is now the second hotel alarm we have experienced in the past 5 days. We were awoken around midnight in Paris a few nights ago by an alarm in just our room. The next day, the front desk delicately but intentionally probed us for our propensity to smoke in our room despite the rules not to. We later determined that an electrical outlet in our bathroom was sparking and shorting out. It was a lovely hotel, but we were not sad to leave its fire hazardiness behind. We are now a bit twitchy, fearing hotel alarms will be a theme of our trip.

So. BORDEAUX!

Until a few days ago, I thought Bordeaux was a region in France – like the Midwest in the USA, or perhaps a state or province or something. Clearly, I wasn’t entirely sure where we were headed a few days ago as we left Paris and headed southwest on a really fast train. Turns out Bordeaux is both a region AND a pretty large city (pretty AND large – population about 250,000 in the city itself).

The train ride was fun, fast, and sway-y. We went about 200mph and only had two stops along the 2.5 hours route. The countryside whizzed by as the rain showers came and went. Our coach-mates were a college golf team returning from a tournament. We were drenched in adolescent energy, volume, and testosterone. So many reasons to appreciate a fast train.

LOVED seeing the little villages along the way.
And unexpectedly happy not to be in Paris anymore.

The countryside from Paris to Bordeaux reminded
me a lot of northern California during a wet year.
Sort of flat with rolling green hills and lots of trees, 
mostly leafy and not really pines or firs.

We have spent the past 3 days exploring Bordeaux – both the region and the city. Some on our own and some with tour guides. The city sits on a river (the Garonne) and was once a major port since the river joins another river to the northwest (the Dordogne) and heads to the Atlantic Ocean as the Gironde River, similarly to how the Columbia and Willamette Rivers connect Portland to the Pacific.

The city of Bordeaux is exceptionally walkable. Flat, meandery, safe, photogenic. There are enough sizeable landmarks to help you get your bearings, while still having squiggly streets and alleyways that entice you to get a little lost. There’s a nice blend of tourists and locals. We felt welcomed and were excited that locals often initially speak French to us, suggesting we aren’t conspicuously advertising our American-ness. They also seemingly appreciated our attempts to speak French but have been happy to speak English with us. None of that stereotypical French snobbery so far!

Lots of cobblestones and tall beautiful
buildings. And because of the rain, not
a lot of people walking around.

On our first afternoon out, I bought a souvenir that still has me giggling. If you live in the Pacific Northwest, you know that only tourists use umbrellas. It rains so often, an umbrella is really just a nuisance in Portland or Seattle. Much easier to use a hood or hat. So, it naturally never occurred to me to pack an umbrella for our trip to France. Because, well, I had both a hood AND a hat. But it turns out, when it rains at home, I don’t have a need or interest in strolling about town. And I also have a car. And the rain is often more spitty than pour-y. So yep, here’s me posing with my first official souvenir from Bordeaux.

I may never use it at home, but I love
my colorfully French umbrella!

We took three wine tours while in Bordeaux. The first was just me and Rob and a knowledgeable wine guy named Remy. We hung out in an office in an old limestone building in an alleyway off a main plaza. Remy gave us an overview of the Bordeaux area, its wines and history, and how its wines compare to other regions in France. We also got to do a little blending of different ratios of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot so we could start to understand the differences these two Bordeaux grapes bring to wine.

Does this look serious? It was so fun!

Later that afternoon we toured an area of Bordeaux – on the left side of the Gironde River – called the Médoc with a wine guy from Brazil named Kaio (his fiancé is French and is in the wine business). We hung out at a Grand Cru winery (old and somewhat fancypants) and got to taste their Cabernet-heavy blends. We also got to see the wildly different containers they use to store their wine. Yes, oak barrels are popular. But so are concrete urns and cone-shaped stainless-steel tanks. The different sizes, shapes, and materials all allow winemakers to play with how much oxygen gets into the wine and how much contact the juice has with other parts of the grapes during fermentation. Just one more variable to try to finesse the perfect wine.

Vineyard and chateau in the Médoc

Anyone else immediately think of Mork upon seeing
the egg vat? Just me?

Despite appearances, we are not in Greece.
They really do store wine in these amphoras!

We spent yesterday touring a different part of Bordeaux called Saint-Émilion on the right side of the river. We went to three different wineries (called “Chateaux” in France) and also got to have lunch and get drenched in the incredibly charming Saint-Émilion (I stupidly left my new souvenir in the tour van; SO not used to carrying an umbrella!). The small medieval village is quaint, lovely, and very popular with tourists. It reminded us a bit of Carmel in California or Cannon Beach in Oregon, but with super old limestone buildings and hilly views and French accents. If I lived in Europe, Saint-Émilion would be on my Frequent Vacation Destination list.

Saint-Émilion is hilly and cobblestoney
and beautiful in any weather

Lunch view in Saint-Émilion

Vineyard in Fronsac

So what have I learned about Bordeaux wines??  So much. I filled 6 pages of my Wine Journal (acquired specifically for this expedition), and I’m sure I missed noting things because I didn’t want to keep my nose and head too much in student mode. I’m honestly a little worried what the rest of the trip will be like – my brain might get a little mushy by the end. Thankfully, our itinerary mostly has travel days alternating with wine days, so hopefully my brain will be able to keep up.

And if you really here for the photos and travelogue and not so much for the wine info, feel free to skim ahead.

Before I launch into the basics of what I’ve learned in Bordeaux, perhaps a map will help?

Médoc is the dark purple part on the left.
The city of Bordeaux is light purple part
on the left between the dark purple and orange.
Saint-Emillion is in the blue part on the right.

The Bordeaux area is about 8 times the size of the Napa wine area. It has over 8,000 different wineries and is divided up into 61 distinctly different little wine geographies (called appellations – or AVAs in America) based on the distinct soil, weather, and other environmental conditions of each area – captured under the French word “terroir.” Terroir has no English equivalent, so American wine people use the same word and feel very elegant and sophisticated when tossing “terroir” into their wine conversations.

The area of Bordeaux is divided by a river (the Gironde). Much like Paris, the area on the left is called The Left Bank and the area on the right is called The Right Bank. There is also an area between two legs of the river (the Garonne and Dordogne) that is called “Between the Two Seas.” Each of these areas specialize in their own types of Bordeaux wines based on which grapes they use.

Bordeaux is known mostly for red wines. French law dictates – because that's what it loves to do – which varieties of grapes can be used in wines from the specific little geographies (appellations). If a winery uses the wrong grapes, they are limited in what they can call their wine and they will lose serious credibility and dollars.

Bordeaux wines can only use six red grapes: Merlot; Cabernet Sauvignon; Cabernet Franc; Petit Verdot; Malbec; and Carménère. A few folks do make white wines in Bordeaux – in the “Between the Two Seas” area (green on the map above). Those white wines are primarily blends of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon. Muscadelle grapes are also allowed (I’ve never tasted a Muscadelle wine – apparently it is melon-y). Having said that, a white Bordeaux wine is a pretty unusual find, especially in the United States.

Among yet more rules for legally calling your wine a Bordeaux, you are not allowed to irrigate your grapevines after the first two years of planting them (I think this is a rule throughout all of France). After that, you are at the whim of the weather. The idea is to stress the plants so that they have to grow long roots to reach the water table in the earth. Also, stressed plants make for more concentrated grapes which means more flavors in the wine. In order to make the best use of rain, dew, heat from the ground, and to avoid having grapevine leaves shade neighboring grape clusters, the grapevines in Bordeaux are pretty low to the ground. And most of the grapes are handpicked. Just looking at the squatty vineyards made my back twinge. I assume chiropractors and massage therapists are quite busy during the harvest (September and October).

It was so cool to be in the vineyards
while the crew was working! It felt a
lot less touristy. 

One of my all time favorite photos of
Rob (taken in the Médoc area)

Bordeaux wines from the left bank (we went to Médoc) are blends that are mostly Cabernet Sauvignon with the rest mostly Merlot. Bordeaux wines from the right bank (we went to Saint-Émilion and Fronsac) are the opposite – mostly Merlot with some Cabernet Sauvignon thrown into the blend. The other grapes (Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, Malbec, Carménère) are added – if  desired – in very small quantities (like less than 10%) to add color or structure or other fun wine qualities.

Reading a French wine label, if it has “Chateau” on it, it means the wine was entirely made on the premises (“estate” wines in the United States). That means all the grapes are grown on the property and all the manufacturing happens onsite as well. For the most part, French wineries do not sell grapes to each other. They grow what they need. Basically, I concluded that if I am going to the effort to buy a Bordeaux wine (and maybe any French wine for that matter – we will find out!), I should only look for ones that have “Chateau” on the label.

Rob and I found we liked the right bank (Merlot heavy) wines better than the left bank (Cabernet Sauvignon) ones. They were fruitier, brighter, and less heavy. Remy told us that generally, left bank Bordeaux wines are called “masculine” wines and the right bank ones are called “feminine” for this difference – but the terminology, perceptions, and stereotypes are slowly changing.

We also discovered we like wine from a right bank area called Pomerol. This area is its own appellation because it has very distinct soil. It is blue clay! BLUE! The blue comes from iron in the soil and it gives the wine some distinct flavors. For example, in one Pomerol wine, I tasted a little bit of blood. Yes, this was oddly a good thing and no, I hadn’t just accidentally bitten my lip. Either way, I’m bummed we didn’t get to see the soil up close and bluish.

A lineup of some of the right bank wines we sampled

Our final dinner in Bordeaux continued our wine education in a totally unique and surprisingly unintimidating way. Recommended by our tour guide Maud, Rob and I strolled into a locals part of town and had dinner at a Peruvian fusion restaurant named Blind (yeah, I know, but it was SO GOOD!)

Isn't that GORGEOUS! It tasted
even better. 

The restaurant’s name comes from the super fun game you get to play with your waiter (ours spoke 4 languages). After ordering your food, your waiter describes a couple of wine options that would pair well with your choices – but you aren’t told what type of wine it is. Instead, you are told things about the tannins, spiciness, balance, color, and aromas. You make your wine choice based on the characteristics and then you get to guess what your wine is by the end of the meal. It is essentially a “blind tasting” which allows you to evaluate a wine without much info to go on other than your senses.

I ordered pork kabobs seasoned with all sorts of fun and lively spices, and Rob ordered a delicious beef thing that was the most amazing pot roast I’ve ever tasted. I chose a white wine and Rob chose a red one. The meal and the experience were spectacular. Like, on my list of Top 10 meals of my life. The food was delicious, beautiful, and creative. The vibe was relaxed, friendly, and welcoming. The wine education was humbling, instructive, and encouraging.

So how did we do?

I went first and guessed a Chardonnay. I described things about the mouthfeel, roundness, hint of oakiness, full body, and lack of fruit. The waiter’s eyes flickered happily when I said I wasn’t sure if the creamy mouthfeel was from being lightly oaked or from going through malolactic fermentation (or both), but I didn’t think it was French (not fruity enough) or American (not oaky enough). Turns out my wine was not a Chardonnay – and it was indeed from France – but our waiter gave me major points for my analysis and where it led me. He said he, too, had guessed a Chardonnay when he blind tasted it. Instead, it was a Grenache blend (a red grape that typically makes red wines) from the southeastern part of France. Never ever ever would I have guessed it correctly.

Rob struggled to figure out his wine. I tried it, too, and wasn’t much help. It was a beautiful red wine that smelled like chocolate but had a lighter, brighter, fruitiness that made us think about lighter red grapes like Gamay. We went around and around. Rob had a grape in mind but couldn’t remember its name. He finally threw caution to the wind and guessed a Nebbiolo. Much to our shock, Rob’s wine was a Bordeaux from the right bank – a Merlot blend from Saint-Émilion where we had been just hours before! It tasted nothing like the other wines we had tasted throughout the day. This was spectacularly confusing! We are here to learn and learning we are! We’re still not sure what to do with this information, other than to keep exploring right bank Bordeaux wines. And if there’s ever a moment in which Rob and I think we are getting fancypants with our wine knowledge, we just need to recall our humbling Blind tasting.

So we have said au revoir to Bordeaux and are currently on a fast train to the Loire Valley. Our hotel (hopefully unalarmed) is in a town called Tours. We will be taking a daytrip tomorrow (more trains!) to a town called Chinon to learn what makes the Loire Valley special in the wine world. Stay tuned!

A few hours after we left, the Olympic Torch
was scheduled to run through Bordeaux. 
Bummed we missed it!