I’m certain, this is what darkness tastes like
I’ll just say it, this wine kicked me in the teeth. Fresh out the bottle, my mouth is dryer than the Sahara. This scorched earth drowned in tannins, doused in acid was a liquor that should not be had alone. It is bolder than any Barnard woman and I don’t say that lightly. This is a wine that’s made me think, and I’m certain, this is what darkness tastes like.
Grown from the mind of Alain Brumont, this Madiran redefined the appellation known for pretty appalling wines. He’s designed a glass that is purely a product of its environment by rejecting insecticides, watering his vines from the fresh spring, and allowing the local flora to grow between the rows, blending with the vines. His grapes are graded, counted, and pruned by hand; his bunches thinned to amplify the sun exposure. The technique is sublime, but it’s the Tannat that’s really on display.
Native to the region, this grape flaunts its categorical power so much so that it’s often blended with Cabernet Sauvignon or Cabernet Franc to temper its authority. Brumont’s employs 20% of the Sauvignon, which is in line with the AOC’s 60% Tannat minimum. It’s common to introduce oxygen during the winemaking process to soften this tannic and alcoholic grape. This bottle does so with barrique aging in up to 80% new oak barrels for about fourteen months.
Even though I was assaulted, my initial impression is that this is one for the cellar and the decanter. It’s an earthy, Southern fire; the smoke blending with the underripe blackberries, sour cherries, and a dash of allspice. You can feel and smell the flames, so much so that this would be perfect for Boston’s arctic climate. Then again, this birdy flew South for winter, and thankfully I’m getting to enjoy this with mom’s garlicky roast with braised potatoes, and warm gravy topped with crispy bacon.
It’s astounding to think that forty years ago Château Montus was abandoned with no vines to offer. Alain Brumont, having dedicated his life to winemaking, acquired it one year after taking over his family’s Château Bouscassé. His father forced him to leave school at sixteen to work and that he has, tirelessly. Brumont’s devotion to his region and in turn Tannat has motivated him to find the right terroirs to support his grapes. Château Montus offers the Tannat vines a red clay topped with galets rouges, large, round, reddish rocks, which produces spirited, Herculean wines.
This Madiran has waited nine years for me, and frankly, it could have waited for another. Wines like these will age beautifully, and I’m going back to NOLA Wine Merchant to grab a few more bottles for future winters. Straight up, I’ve tasted darkness, and I am all the more better for it.