Alexander is a writer and a wine drinker; he is using the former occupation to increase his appreciation of the latter.
Read more about Alexander Velky and see other articles by this author.
This might be the first time I’ve tried a white Burgundy - it’s certainly the first time I’ve done so knowingly – and while I liked what I tasted I can confess to being a little underwhelmed.
An understated white wine from the heart of France, its refreshing citrus and apple flavours would be more affecting, perhaps, if it was not currently so bloody hot in the muggy surrounds of London. The thin and subtle, golden-green liquid in my awkwardly-shaped Ikea glass was presumably supposed to be sophisticated, but I found only the simplest of pleasures could be derived from its consumption.
Now, I’m not knocking simple pleasures, but one hopes for much from a Burgundy; indeed, one is taught to.
It may be that a series of poor choices led to my ambivalence toward Louis Latour‘s Mâcon-Lugny: yes, I refrigerated prior to opening, but perhaps I could have waited another 30 minutes. Perhaps I could have refrigerated the glass too, or constructed a rudimentary wine cooler using my knowledge of science (such as it is) and household goods (such as they are).
I did none of the above. And after being in the glass for ten minutes, the liquid was already at room temperature. And the room was hot.
It still has more strength of character than your average, bog-standard, snob-baiting Chardonnay but I can think of a whole rack of examples of better uses of the same grape from lands less celebrated. And at 13% alcohol, one might expect a fuller, more robust flavour. There is character there in this bottle: it was just easily overpowered by the slightly spicy pasta bake I was enjoying it with. I just felt it was nice, and nice isn’t a very exciting adjective.
If my pasta bake is only slightly spicy, I expect a Chardonnay to cope with it. (A Burgundy comprising so much Chardonnay does not – apparently – a Chardonnay make.)
Mâcon-Lugny underperformed. That’s my third word prefixed with ‘under’, and if a wine must excel itself in either direction, I’d usually favour an ‘over’.
Louis Latour’s Mâcon-Lugny does not need my approval, mind you; a label that dull could only belong to a long-established and frequently-awarded winery.
Anyway, my apologies to Monsieur Latour and his Maison: either the wine is not fine enough for my palate or my palate is not fine enough for the wine. It might make a good opening wine for a dinner party, but only if the starter was similarly subtle.
We bought this bottle from Majestic. Normal price is £8.99
Photograph by Victoria Keeble.
