PROVENCE, France — As an unapologetic Francophile, I do not engage in France-bashing. But their unique combination of arrogance and stubbornness — especially when you least expect it — can be infuriating even to me. Thankfully, sweet experiences usually outweigh the sour ones.
First, the sour: Dinner at, of all places, Jacques Maximin ‘Table d’Amis,’ a Michelin 2-star restaurant just outside Vence, where I have enjoyed a fabulous meal in the past. While the menu is creative (although the execution this time was spotty) the wine list appeared to be an afterthought judging by the pathetically narrow choices, with only two or three producers for each region.
I selected a 2004 St. Aubin 1er Cru from Lopé Cholet ($106 at current exchange rates), a producer who has had a mediocre reputation in the past, but whose wines I have not tasted in some time. The waiter brought a 2004 St. Aubin village wine. At first, I thought it was a simple mistake. But he insisted it was the wine I had ordered even after I pointed out it was not the premier cru listed on the wine list.
He persisted and enlisted the aid of ‘The Madame,’ who also haughtily insisted it was the wine I had selected from the list. She went on to say it was the St. Aubin they always had, which may have been true. It just wasn’t what was advertised. And I wasn’t prepared to spend $100 dollars for a minor village wine from an untested producer. In the end, we opted for a 2005 Olivier Leflaive Pernand Vergelesses ($75).
They are either trying a ‘bait and switch’ on unsuspecting customers by substituting a village wine for a premier cru or are just plain ignorant about wine. I don’t know which is worse, but don’t count me among their ‘amis‘ any longer.
The following night sitting under the Provençal blue sky in Avignon at a table at Le Moutardier, an unpretentious restaurant on the Place du Palais directly across from the Palais des Papes, erased any animosity towards the French. The Michelin recommended it (no stars) and commented that it had many wines by the glass, so despite its apparent tourist trap location, I booked a table.
Lovely food (a filet of beef topped by a perfectly cooked slice of warm foie gras) was overshadowed by an exceptional wine list and enthusiastic service. I inquired whether the 1999 Ferraton Hermitage Blanc ‘Les Miaux‘ ($19 for a 5 oz glass, $64 a bottle) had been opened that day. The waiter said that he did not know, but would be happy to open a new bottle in any case.
He did and the wine was superb. But this being the heart of the southern Rhone, I selected a bottle of 1990 Châteauneuf du Pape, Château La Nerthe ($78) for the beef. It showed the versatility of wines from Châteauneuf du Pape. You can enjoy them young for their vibrant spicy character, or age them to reveal glorious suave complexity.
It was a tough choice because there were a host of tempting Châteauneufs on the list: 1995 Beaurenard ($65), 1999 and 2000 La Nerthe ($69 and $63, respectively), as well as some terrific examples from neighboring villages, a 1995 and 1998 Cairanne Cuvee Antique from the excellent producer, Cave de Cairanne ($54 and $52, respectively).
Count me an ‘amis‘ of Le Moutardier. I’m returning tonight for the magret de canard and the 1995 La Nerthe.
2