It may be an apocryphal story, but when I heard it many years ago, I felt a sense of deja vu. The story goes that a venerable member of the English wine trade was asked when did he last confuse a Rhône wine with one from Burgundy? His reply was ‘Not since lunchtime’. The similarity between old Rhône and Burgundy wines is, or can be, very disconcerting, and I make no secret of the fact that I certainly confuse the two regions in Options games over the years.
1978 was a stellar vintage in Burgundy, indeed my favourite of all vintages since the Second World War, and the weather patterns also benefited the Rhône Valley. I drank this Gigondas over several days; on the first day the Rhône/Burgundy similarity was striking, and, indeed, I have little doubt that had I tasted the wine blind I would have confidently answered ‘Burgundy’. But, by the end of the second day, the Rhône started assert itself, the tannins the give away, although very soft.
The bottle in question was one of two left in a corner of the cellar. How many more I might have had 30 years ago I simply don’t know. Whatever, this was a gorgeous wine, perfumed with violets, old lady’s handbag (a Len Evans saying), hints of forest and the garrigue of the Southern Rhône Valley which is difficult to describe, but once experienced, never forgotten: it’s all of the wild flowers, heather and small bushes. The grenache also began to flaunt its varietal colours; typically Guigal Gigondas contains 70% grenache, the remainder a potpourri of all of the many varieties permitted under the AC legislation.
James Halliday
