Christian Venier, in Madon

 When we see Christian Venier he has dirt lining the bags underneath his eyes, hair in wild disarray, and hands blackened by whatever work our rendez-vous pulled him away from. I feel bad that we obviously caught him at a busy time, but he doesn’t seem bothered to show a couple groupies through his cellar.

The first time I heard Venier’s name mentioned was in the Paris wine shop Cave de l’Insolite where a healthy quantity of his vin de table rose is (or by now “was”) stocked. The second time was when I picked up a bottle of 2007 sauvignon from a different Paris shop. I posted a comment about this wine about a month ago, but the memory of tasting it is still strong: plentiful aromas of grass/gooseberry but nowhere near an acerbic version we are oft accustomed to, rather rounded and flattered by a hint of wood.

But I wasn’t prepared for what we were going to taste in the cellar. Starting with a late-release white that hinted slightly oxidized by persisted for many minutes to his new, ‘08 sauvignon again with the precision yet interest factor that is so admirable. Then into the reds, an 80/20 gamay/pinot noir fruity and with mineral edges; a reverse blend of 80 pinot and 20 gamay, more animal and young leaf aromas; and finally a cabernet franc that was like no cabernet franc I’ve tasted before--light and perfumed and less than 12 percent alcohol.

It’s explained largely by his red winemaking technique: carbonic maceration. Filling cement vats (unlined cement seems to be preferred by smaller producers as it gives some aeration... larger operations will tend to line with epoxy as it’s easier to clean, but then loses the porous quality) with the whole clusters, he tops them off with CO2 gas and then leaves the lid on, but without a full seal. And that’s about it. Over some time, the enzymatic fermentation starts, some time later, the berries lose some of their juice which then ferments. He generally does one pigeage, if the fermentation looks like it’s losing some momentum--but that’s the only time the contents of the tank are touched.

It’s then pressed, and what sugar is left in the pressings is allowed to ferment dry in cement tank. No barrels for any of the reds. (No additives, no sulphur, no filtration, of course.)

The result is observable in the taste of the wine: fresh and vibrant fruit with a touch of mineral/salts that comes with the inclusion of stems in the fermentation. Even the cabernet franc, picked at what would conventionally be considered erroneously under ripe, has a gorgeous fresh character and a smattering of bell pepper. Beautifully balanced; there would be no problem putting back a bottle or two.

I ask about some bag-in-boxes on the floor. “It’s my declassified wine,” he says, and we’ve seen this at many places we’ve visited: bag-in-box is the common way table wine is consumed here, and even small wineries can sell privately to individuals. Though it means losing potential profit in volume, it seems to be a good way to raise the quality of your bottled product. Though we left with a bottle of Cheverny, I will be back to Venier’s one day to buy the bag-in-box.