Thu 4 Apr 2013
Well, not much sounds more romantic, sun-splashed and authentically “South of France” than the region of Provence-Alps Côte d’Azur, which has, as travel writers like to say, its feet in the Mediterranean and its head in the Alps. They might add, with one elbow jostling Italy and the other resting in the Rhone. As one of France’s 27 regions, Provence-Alps Côte d’Azur encompasses six departments: Alpes-de-Hautes-Provence, Hautes-Alpes, Alpes-Maritimes, Bouches-du-Rhône, Var and Vaucluse. This is a much-fought-over region rich in history and winemaking that nowadays ranges from the deep, dark rich wines of the Southern Rhône Valley to the delicate ineffable rosés of Aix-en-Provence, with incredible variety in-between. To say, then, on press material, that the “birthplace” of a wine is Provence-Alps Côte d’Azur (weirdly abbreviated to PACA) isn’t saying much or, at least, it’s being almost laboriously non-specific. In fact, bottles of the Luc Belaire Rare Rosé carry as appellation the single word — France. Not, I hasten to add, that there’s anything wrong with that; I just want My Readers to understand the geography and terminology behind the product.
This fairly delightful sparkling wine, in a sleek package, is produced, we are told, by the Piffaut family, which established its estate in 1898, so indicated on the neck label. The wine is composed of 90 percent syrah grapes, 5 percent grenache and 5 percent cinsault, which could be the blend in many still wines from all over the region. The color is pale copper with a pale peach-salmon scale overlay. The bubbles, of which the complement is plentiful, swirling and twisting upward, are the result of the Charmat or bulk process, in which the second fermentation (which produces the bubbles) is not accomplished in the bottle in which the wine will be sold, as in the Champagne method, but in large tanks; such sparkling wines can convey a great deal of charm but not a lot in the way of depth.
The first impression in the aromas and flavors is pure strawberry quickly overtaken by pure black raspberry and currant, with a pleasing touch, in the mouth, of the slight “raspiness” of the raspberry plant. A hint of sweetness on the entry quickly turns dry under the influence of scintillating acidity and a fluent element of flint-like minerality. I mentioned Lambrusco in the title of this post because, while the color here is lighter and more ephemeral than the dark purple typical of most slightly sparkling Lambruscos — which originate in Italy’s Emilia-Romagna region — there’s a similar feeling of earthiness, a similar touch of supple robustness to serve as counterweight to the delicate superstructure. 11.5 percent alcohol. Drink up; not for aging. We drank the Luc Belaire Rare Rosé as aperitif over two nights and were quite pleased with it; I’m happy to give it a Very Good+ rating. What I’m not happy about is the suggested retail price of $35. As they say in Marseilles, “No way, Jose.” $18, maybe; not $35.
The press material accompanying this product is filled with laughs. Monaco is not one of the “stunning French Riviera cities”; it’s a sovereign principality. Neither “Van” Gogh (related to Van Johnson?), Matisse, Manet or “Cesanne” were Impressionist painters. Did nobody read this stuff before it was mailed out to the world? Is the notion of a copy-editor hopelessly passé?
Imported by Luc Belaire, New York. A sample for review.