Used to be that when one heard “Rhône,” one thought, “red.” That’s because 90 percent of the wine that comes from France’s Rhône River valley — and all the really famous stuff, like Côte Rotie — is indeed red. Châteauneuf du Pape, although it can come “blanc,” is hardly ever seen in stores or on wine lists as such, and most people would be hard-pressed to name one grape variety that’s used to make a white Rhône.
The other reason whites from the Rhône are so underappreciated is because, for a long time, they deserved it. A red winemaker’s afterthought, they suffered from all kinds of horrible-sounding blunders including volatile acidity, oxidation, or just plain old funky flavors.
All of that has changed. Partly thanks to new winemaking technology like stainless steel tanks, winemakers in the South of France are making crisper, more balanced, delicious, and fragrant white wines. More importantly perhaps, American drinkers are increasingly fanatical about grapes native to the Rhône such as syrah, mourvedre, and viognier (“anything,” as the so-called Rhône Rangers put it, “but chardonnay”), and more people are looking to the original whites of the Rhône — Condrieu, Châteauneuf du Pape blanc, Côtes du Rhône blanc — to escape the ennui induced by having to order one, more, glass, of, pinot grigio, please … zzzzz.
The Ladies Tasting Society popped the cork on a pile of white Rhônes, with divided results:
Some ladies were delighted with how different the wines tasted from the whites we’re used to: these tasters noted floral aromas, flavors of apricots and tropical fruit, minerals, and a pleasant waxy feeling on the palate, especially with the wines that were made with marsanne in the blend. But a couple of us were expecting an even more dramatic departure. We ended up being disappointed, mainly, with the high level of oak treatment some of the wines had clearly received. One of us complained that overall, the wines lacked “typicity,” that is, the characteristic flavors lent by the grapes they were made from or the regions they came from. “This could be a California chardonnay,” said one lady of the Guigal Condrieu 2005 ($52), “it’s jacked up on so much oak, I can’t tell what’s lying underneath.”
Interestingly, we all agreed that the more inexpensive, “every day” examples were the most delicious. Perhaps this is because for $7.99 — the price of our much-loved Perrin Côtes du Rhône Réserve 2007 — the winemaker can’t afford to be throwing brand new oak barrels at it. Also, these less pricey blancs are intended to be drunk young and fresh, and sure enough we tended to unite behind bottles from the 2007 vintage (which is also happens to be a very highly rated one by the critics).
In the end, we didn’t see any reason to discontinue this growing interest in the whites of the Rhône, despite our minority crankiness. So be brave and go with a Côtes du Rhône blanc the next time you’re in the store — especially if it’s cheap. It’s not often I have the pleasure of giving that advice.
Best of Tasting
Le Vieux Donjon, Châteauneuf du Pape Blanc 2006 ($42) ***
Sweet jasmine and honeysuckle aromatics, followed by a rich, though balanced, palate full of apricot, melon, and citrus flavors. Some mineral notes. “The most restrained,” said one lady appreciatively; “complexity without flabbiness,” said another. A blend of grenache blanc, clairette, and roussanne.
Best Value
Domaine de la Bécassone Côtes du Rhône Blanc 2008 ($13.99) **1/2
This domaine (owned by the quality Châteauneuf du Pape producer André Brunel) makes only white wine, which is very unusual for the region. The focus pays off: loads of pear and apricot flavors are draped over a mouthwatering, racy frame. “Young, almost effervescent!” said one lady. One of us knocked it for a short finish, but what the hey. Roussane, grenache blanc, and clairette.
Perrin, Côtes du Rhône Blanc Réserve 2007 ($9)
“Crazy fruity!” enthused one lady. Indeed, this yummy quaffer was very memorable for its vivid, fresh flavors of peach, melon, flint, and lemon. Some of us detected a little wax on the mouthfeel, so characteristic of marsanne. Altogether, we pronounced it delicious, typical, and (when we discovered the price) buyable by the case. 50 percent grenache blanc, 20 percent viognier, the rest marsanne and roussanne.
Château Grande Cassagne, Costières de Nîmes Blanc 2007 ($12) **1/2
Okay, Nîmes isn’t technically in the Rhône. But it’s close. And we were so seduced by this golden-colored, lavender-scented nectar, we were happy it was on the table. Because of its richness, some of us thought it was a viognier from Condrieu, but no, the soft mouthfeel and notes of vanilla are worn well by this roussanne-marsanne blend.
Domaine Belle, Crozes-Hermitage “Les Terres Blanches” 2006 ($30) **
This light-to-medium bodied, fresh white pleased everyone more for what it was not (overly oaked, too rich) than what it was (a delicately apricot and melon flavored, pleasant wine). Again, some nice minerality and a tiny bit of vanilla spice. Marsanne and roussanne.
F&D Brunier Châteauneuf du Pape Blanc “Telegramme” 2007 ($40) **
The second wine of the famous Vieux Télégraphe, this straw-colored wine turned out to have big, vibrant middle palate full of apricot and melon flavors. Lots of vanilla and oak on the nose and finish, though; perhaps a little time will calm that down. 40 percent roussanne, 30 grenache blanc, 20 bourboulenc, and 10 percent picpoul.
Paul Jaboulet Aîné, Crozes-Hermitage Blanc “Mule Blanche” 2005 ($20) *1/2
Crozes-Hermitage comes from the northern end of the Rhône, and is like the little sister to the big, rare, expensive Hermitage blanc. Emphasis on “little” with this example from Jaboulet Aîné: “reserved nose, apples, lemony, crisper, with a juicy mouthfeel,” read my notes, but not enough to sink our teeth into. I should note that I opened a bottle of this same wine in preparation for the tasting, and it was oxidized.
Guigal, Condrieu 2005 ($52) *1/2
It pains me to write this tasting note. Guigal is one of my favorite producers in the Rhône; we’ve visited the brothers Guigal’s château; and the most exquisite bottle of wine I’ve ever tasted was the 1990 Guigal Côte Rotie La Landonne. But this Condrieu was so oaky, creamy, and jammed with vanilla and nutmeg flavors I felt like I was drinking a shake. I got none of the peach and apricot flavors I expect from viognier, and none of the structure I associate with French wines. Viscous finish.
