Bottles in Bourgogne

I have decided that tottering in heels through vineyards, while elegant, is not particularly practical. But then I’ve never been a particularly practical kind of girl except when I have my hands deep in garden soil. This was not the best occasion to have one’s heels deep in garden soil, while visiting some of the most famous vineyards in France. There was, however, a logical reason for my madness: quite simply, I felt like being a bit posh.

It was time for a weekend away to reconnect with life, and also time to indulge my wine hobby. What better activity than enrolling in a one day wine discovery course in Beaune, in the Bourgogne region. I had never been to Beaune. I knew that Bourgogne wines are considered some of the top wines in France, if not the top. A good Nuits-Saint-Georges had already traversed my lips and its mellow, silky, chocolatey body is to be cherished. Price tag to boot. As well, there are 33 Grand Crus in Bourgogne, the top of the top wines.

So I figured that the kind of people attending this wine school would likely be refined, well-dressed and cultured, mature French. Heavens, there might even be a Count among them. I also figured that, seeing as I spent most of my days in a high vis vest clumping around in safety shoes, it was time to have fun dressing up just enough not to look silly.

When I arrived to the class, I realised I was brushing up against the silly side. The teacher arrived to the class in t-shirt and jeans. My classmates were indeed refined, and a range of ages. There was one other english-speaking expat in the class, and we quickly exchanged phone numbers. Meeting other expats can be gold when you are struggling with adopted-country life.

Most were wearing jeans and canvas sneakers, some with scarves draped casually around their shoulders, in that understated French chic. There were a couple of flowy sundresses on show, paired with denim jackets. OK so at least I wasn’t in a ballgown, with my black trousers and vintage deep purple and black lace top, but I was definitely the only one in heels. No matter, I thought. We’ll be spending the day largely seated as we taste wines, I thought. Then we eat lunch at a local, casually chic, French restaurant, paired with more wine, I thought. Once we get to the vineyards, we’ll be seated in the cave of some chateau tasting even more wines, I thought.

The thing is, I wasn’t actually far wrong. We did, in fact, do this. What I hadn’t factored in was that after tasting approximately tenty-billion very good wines, the little walking that we did do, was significantly complicated.

Added to that, the evening prior I had decided to eat out in the centre of Beaune and whet my palate with a couple of glasses of the local variety with my meal. I had told myself I would definitely be in bed by 10pm so that I could be refreshed and ready for the day ahead. That was before I met the table of English, Irish and Scotsmen on some kind of weekend boys midlife crisis trip from Luxembourg.

At 12:30am, I was back at the hotel, safely in bed. The two wines I had had were somehow joined by another two before I got home. While I was in that nice, sleepy space, dozing off, I was reminded that Mademoiselle Le Chat had joined me on this trip. Normally she settles quite happily into hotel life but this time round, she decided she was having none of it, and played zoomies and meowies from 3am.

So the wine class was already a little effort, but after tasting a few in the morning and dutifully spitting them out (I nearly cried doing this with the Nuits-Saint-Georges Premier Cru) and a little nap in the shuttle on the way to the vineyards, my form was returning.

We visited Clos de Vougeot, a former 12th century chateau and vineyard run by Cistercian monks (after all, wine was needed for Mass, the teacher told us with a twinkle in his eye). Now a tour chateau, its surrounding lots (“parcelles”) of vines are divided among no less than 80 owners. Next stop was the famous Domaine No 1 of Bourgogne and the smallest at 2 acres, Romanée-Conti. A quick Google search reveals you can get your hands on a bottle from here starting from a mere 3300 euros, all the way up to 49000 euros.

We finished the vineyard tour at a Vosne-Romanée vineyard…with more tastings. Bourgogne does truffles. Not the chocolate kind, but the kind that dogs and pigs sniff out. As luck would have it, the truffle season had just started. We were served a platter of truffled butter on toasts washed down with a Nuits-Saint-Georges Premier Cru. Suffice to say, I did not spit this one out. Actually, because of covid rules, we were sadly banned from spitting any wine out.

Beaune is a stunningly beautiful village, as is the surrounding countryside. I fell in love with it immediately. The buildings are typically French, built of stone and peppered with shutters and flowers. The waiters are friendly and helpful. The centre is awash with wine shops and terrace restaurants serving extremely good Bourgogne fare. You can go for the traditional beef bourguignon, (beef drowned in red wine), oeuf meurette (eggs drowned in red wine) or snails drowned in (no, not red wine … parsley and garlic!), as well as another local specialty, jambon persillé (ham drowned in parsley). Or try the tiny chanterelle mushrooms. It’s very simple fare, but totally mouth-watering.

If you do want to posh it up a notch, go for the supreme de volaille (chicken breast) with Epoisse potato gratin. Epoisse cheese is the local specialty (along with Comte) which is added to any dish with a cream sauce to give that extra special kick. It also happens to be my favourite cheese of all time. So I just had to have a wodge of it with my decaf.

Exploring the vineyards amongst chateaux, watching the pickers harvest the grapes, and listening to the history of the region from a teacher is also a very enjoyable way to spend a sunny afternoon. I must admit, it wasn’t too much of a downside to be standing, slightly wobbly, in heels amongst 50-70 year old Grand Cru vines. I went back the next day. In sensible shoes.