One Bottle, Four Years, Thirteen Grapes
A milestone marked by Châteauneuf-du-Pape and its complexity
There’s no doubt in my mind that wines are unnecessary objects wholly inessential to our daily lives. If they are, and you don’t work in wine, there’s a problem you should probably address. That said, these unnecessary things can add flavor to our cycles of necessary duties. I admit that celebrating a special occasion with a nice meal does offer that little bit more motivation to wake up the next morning and keep going. Similarly, wines do have this capacity to mark milestones, especially if they carry sentimental value to the celebrator. To me, Chateauneuf-du-Pape is one such wine and one that I chose to commemorate my college graduation.
I came across this wine from the Southern Rhone region of France not long after I first began educating myself about wine. As I sat in my dorm room trying to differentiate Cabernet Sauvignon from Cabernet Franc, I stumbled upon a region in France that permits blending up to 13 different grape varietals in a single wine. That’s right. 13. To my novice wine brain, the idea of blending so many grapes together was just puzzling. “What would the wine even taste like?” I asked myself over and over. I did some research to chip away at this question and found that the wine is centered around a Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre blend, also known as a “GSM” blend. I had heard of the first two, but I wondered, “what the heck is ‘moor-veh-drah’?” And so, I was no closer to understanding this enigma of a wine. This curiosity was suffocating. I knew I had to do something about it.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, my next visit to the wine store came sooner than I had planned. I entered the store with a few producer names in mind that Google suggested would give me an accurate impression of Chateauneuf-du-Pape. As I walked toward the wine section, I scanned the aisle labels: ‘Tuscany,’ ‘Germany,’ ‘Bordeaux,’ ‘South France’… ‘Chat du Pape.’ Yes, that’s it. I strode to the section and began perusing the shelves. What I experienced could only be described as choice paralysis–– there were just so many bottles to choose from. My inexperienced wine brain went blank like a fresh canvas. As my eyes skipped from one label to another, each piece of information on the producer, vintage, and price was like an individual stroke of paint on the canvas. By the time I settled on a bottle, the painting was complete, but it was no Monet. I simply made the best decision I could with the information I had. Ultimately, I decided on a bottle of Chateau La Nerthe’s Chateauneuf-du-Pape.
That same night, I uncorked the bottle and commenced my tasting ritual. I placed the opened bottle on my windowsill next to the dozens of other bottles I had tried and picked up the wine glass. Quickly, as if to get it over with, I tilted the glass to check the wine’s color against a white napkin. Here came the part I was waiting for. My neck and arm seemed to work in perfect harmony as I leaned down while the glass rose up. There was about half-a-foot between the glass and my nose when the aromas rushed past my face like a wake left by a passing car. This gale of aromas sent chills through my whole body as I scanned across all the other bottles on the windowsill, trying to recall if any had been as impressive. Something was different about this one. Amid the other fruity aromas, I caught a whiff something that reminded me of prosciutto. There might as well have been a charcuterie board in front of me. I turned back to check that my roommates weren’t cooking up a storm back there. Silence. It came from the glass. That same glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape introduced me to complexity in wine and set me up to evaluate the complexity of all other bottles to come. A learning milestone, one could say.
Semesters later, when the time came to pick a bottle for my college graduation celebration, it was a straightforward decision. Up until then, Chateauneuf-du-Pape had been the one wine that reflected my four years of steep learning curves well. Since I first savored the wine, I had learned much more about it, which made me more confident that I was picking the right bottle. Here’s a quick snapshot of what I learned.
Southern Rhone is a region with moderate to warm mediterranean climate. The temperatures during the hottest and coldest months don’t differ much and the Summers are dry. This means a long, warm growing season suited for grapes that require warmer conditions to ripen, such as Grenache and Mourvèdre. Plus, the large, smooth stones called “galets” found in vineyards further help with ripening. During the day, these galets reflect light as well as absorb heat from the radiant Southern Rhone sun and release them at night to aid ripening. That said, these warm and dry conditions do come with a cost. Risk of drought. Luckily, grapes like Grenache and Mourvèdre are drought tolerant. Syrah, too, can thrive here with proper vineyard management techniques.
Another double-edged sword at play in this region is the strong northerly wind called “The Mistral.” While the Mistral winds can blow away humidity and reduce fungal pressure, it can also damage vines and disrupt fruit set. In response, grape growers train grape vines in the shape of bushes low to the ground, which also helps them benefit from the light and heat reflected off the galets. Given these conditions and Grenache’s high sugar levels, Chateauneuf-du-Pape wines tend to have high alcohol levels. This is where blending comes in. Not only does blending lend complexity to the wine, but it can also help create more balanced wines by curbing high alcohol levels from Grenache.
As with wines from warmer climates, Chateauneuf-du-Pape is not necessarily synonymous with balance or elegance. Therefore, even though choosing a Chateauneuf-du-Pape to celebrate my milestone was straightforward, deciding on which Chateauneuf-du-Pape was a whole other dilemma. How about one from an original producer in the region that aims for harmony and balance? Sounds perfect to me. A 2020 Clos des Papes was the bottle I ended up splurging on.
When I come across a wine that develops as it sits in the glass, I know I’m in the company of a good wine. When I come across a wine that keeps getting better and better with each sip, however, I know I’m in the company of a great wine. I have to admit that when I first nosed and sipped the wine, I was a little disheartened–– a little disappointed, even. The wine was intense but the complexity I was looking forward to wasn’t there. More precisely, it hasn’t arrived. Moments passed by as my family and I conjured up conversations in anticipation of the wine. A while later, feelings of elation swallowed up the disappointment that lingered without leaving the tiniest trace. The wine was outstanding.
As the aromas opened up, I was bathing in complexity. Red cherries, blackcurrants, and dried strawberries. Bay leaves, minerals, and tobacco. Orange peels, colas, and figs with an undertone of meatiness. Unlike many wines out there that rely on new oak aging for complexity, the fruits were the headliners of this show. The wine’s extended periods of aging in large, old oak casks and concrete eggs only served to accentuate what Mother Nature had provided. The wine was powerful with intense flavors and a robust structure. More importantly, it was severely well-balanced. There was enough acidity to create sensations of finesse but not too much that its sharpness stuck out. The alcohol was high but without any detectable burning sensation at any point. As for the finish, I can still taste it as I’m writing these words if I focused a little. In other words, the finish was very, very long. All of these were signs of an outstanding wine and conclusively a wine worthy of celebrating my college graduation. After all, wine can be less about dizziness and more about meaningfulness.
Wine Profile: Clos des Papes, Chateauneuf-du-Pape, 2020
Appearance
Color: Deep Ruby
Nose
Intensity: Pronounced
Development: Developing
Aromas: Red cherry, blackcurrant, dried strawberry, bay leaf, mineral, tobacco, orange peel, cola, fig, meaty
Palate
Sweetness: Dry
Intensity: Medium(+)
Body: Full (tasted like medium(+) due to the acidity)
Acidity: Medium(+)
Tannin: High
Alcohol: High
Flavors: Red cherry, blackcurrant, bay leaf, fig, cola
Finish: Long
Assessment
Quality: Outstanding
Readiness to drink: Can drink now but has aging potential (as of Spring 2025)