Beaujolais Nouveau: the most identifiable aroma is the scent of cash. It’s clever marketing but still fun to drink—as long as it is consumed really young, within a month or so.
France: Beaujolais
Le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé.
The 2005 Beaujolais has indeed arrived. Simultaneously, all over the world, including Main Street, East Hampton, where Amagansett Wine & Spirits hosted a Beaujolais tasting last Friday night at the Baker House 1650.
Beaujolais Nouveau is both a phenomenon and a wine. In what must be the cleverest and most successful marketing of a wine, millions of cases of Beaujolais Nouveau are released to the public in France and every country to which it is exported at one minute past midnight on the third Thursday of November, in time to catch the weekend sales business.
In France the date is regulated by a Beaujolais association; in the rest of the world it makes sense and it makes money for importers and retailers to play the game. The most identifiable aroma of Beaujolais Nouveau, it is sometimes said, is the scent of cash. Although the wine is already safely in the distribution chain, various stunts and races pretending to get the wine quickly from a district in the northern Rhone to your table are greatly popular with the publicity people.
Like some other events and holidays driven by commerce, the result nevertheless is fun, frivolous and quickly becomes a consumer celebration. Beaujolais is highly visible in every important wine market, although, like many other European wines, there is still an oversupply that winds up as ethanol.
Beaujolais Nouveau is produced from gamay, a vigorous grape that is prolific and easy to grow (unlike the pinot noir of the rest of the Burgundy region to the north). The vinification process is unusual and differs even from other, non-nouveau, types of Beaujolais. Whole bunches of grapes are fermented in less than two weeks, and then bottled and shipped—a process taking less than two months.
The featured wine at the tasting, 2005 Georges Buboeuf Beaujolais Nouveau ($11 at Amagansett) was typical: soft, light body, bright fruit, juicy and upfront. Like white wines, Beaujolais Nouveau has no appreciable tannins, and for that reason should be chilled slightly. Wine professionals analyze the differences from year to year, and wine merchants must, of course, describe and comment on the wine for their customers. From my view, however, the annual variations are too minor to bother with. And the differences among brands are not significant.
Beaujolais Nouveau is a wine that is fun to drink, to enjoy for its freshness and simplicity. Anyone who takes it too seriously should be forced to drink it all winter. For the rest of us, January is the expiration date. If it’s not fresh, it’s not worth drinking.
After that you can enjoy Beaujolais-Villages or cru Beaujolais, which are good for a few years, though I prefer them in the bloom of youth. The 2004 Georges Duboeuf Julienas ($16) we tried at the Baker House 1650 tasting was smooth, plush, redolent of cherry, and a bit more serious than the new Beaujolais.
2004 Trenel Fleurie, a cru Beaujolais was also served. It is young but subtle and rounded, with budding complexity in the nose and on the palate. It’s a lovely wine on any standard, although at $26 there is lots of competition.
“Gouleyant” a word the French use to describe Beaujolais Nouveau, translates as gulpable. It might be an awkward word in English, but you get the idea. Relax with it, rejoice with it, and relish it. In a way, it’s the perfect hedonistic wine, meant to be enjoyed today rather than next month or next year.
