It’s been awhile since the last email. and I’d like to reinstate this format. It feels a touch more personal. Much has happened since the last newsletter—a few trips to France and elsewhere, many visits to winemakers, and even more bottles opened and shared with friends. I’m at a bit of an impasse in terms of thinking about wine culture here in Los Angeles. It feels as if LA is just a bit too far from it all; both a blessing and a curse. We have our own styles here; how wine is presented and sold. I don’t necessarily agree with most approaches and treatments, but I guess that is why Canta exists. What I’ve learned from both time here and in Europe is that the way I like to enjoy wine is within a small moment. A table with perhaps two, maybe three other friends. Music low or non-existent. A simple meal in accompaniment to let the wine say what it needs to say.
There is a tiny apartment on a small, quiet street on the left bank of Paris, close to the bustle of Montparnasse, but shielded from it. Within the apartment, a selection of perhaps one of the more extensive collections of natural wine in the world exists. Only blinds are served and answers are never judged. This is wine drinking as meditation; not dissimilar to other meditative activities such as yoga or a walk sans phone. Deep feelings and memories are conjured with each sip, and conversation ebbs and flows, the lull as important as the peak.
A 4x4 truck is required to reach a certain plot of vines in Champeix, a small commune near Clermont-Ferrand, in the Auvergne. The cabin of the truck is completely cluttered with tools, soiled clothes, and other miscellaneous objects. There’s more room for the dog here, so we sit in the bed instead, holding on for dear life as the truck climbs up towards the site. Every vine of Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir, and Syrah has been planted here by hand, by the vigneron who works these vines, and whom makes the wines. I haven’t experienced quite anything else like this before, nor after. It’s early summer, and the feeling of the potential of life is strong. Gentle breezes tuft the Sauvignon vines, and I stare into the distance, almost clear blue skies encapsulating a moment of quiet bliss.
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A few new wines worth much attention are now in from Damien Bastien Goddard, a former student of Jean-François Ganevat who works in the Savoie. Damien’s expressions of Chasselas, Altesse, and Pinot Noir allude towards much time spent in the Jura, but the wines exceed categorization, in my opinion.
More soon.
With love,
Brian