True Champagne

On another beautiful crisp and clear autumn day, we left at daybreak--pausing briefly at the local bakery for un petit dejuner au porte--and drove south for a taste of Champagne. After exiting the main freeway through the French countryside, a small two-lane road curved up into the forested hills leading to the summit. Across the ridge, the road began a gradual left turn and the Valleé de la Marne blanketed in precious vineyards unfolded before us. If ever a road was laid to dramatically reveal landscape, that was it. We continued to Épernay, home of the biggest producers (called "Houses") of Champagne, including the world-famous House of Möet & Chandon, makers of Dom Perignon.


The largest Champagne Houses are all situated along the Rue de Champagne in central Épernay in extravagant buildings more reminiscent of a row of embassies than the production facilities of the most highly prized sparkling wines in the world. On second thought, the embassy analogy is quite appropriate as the large Houses are selling image as much as the contents of the bottle (and in some cases more). With yearly sales of over thirty million bottles and an aging period measured in years, the Möet operation is remarkable in its size, scope and history.


Like the tip of a stone iceberg, the stylish House of Möet only hints at what lies below ground level. The building sits over three levels of wine cellars housing over two hundred million bottles of champagne in over eighteen miles of cellar caves. Napoleon Bonaparte was a friend of the Möet family and is known to have visited the cellars often and the cellar tour covers an area he was known to visit. The ground in the Champagne region is composed of limestone and chalk which naturally regulate temperature and humidity throughout the year making underground cellars throughout the region an ideal place to age wines, sparkling or otherwise.


The tour gave quite a bit of information about the sparkling wine industry: Möet & Chandon require 4000 hectares of grape production to meet their market demands, but they only own 1000 hectares. The Champagne region is strictly regulated, and only approved land is allowed for use in the making of wine. Each field, or Cru, is rated based on the quality of the soil, exposure to the sun, temperature variance and moisture conditions. The lowest level is simply a Cru. The First Cru is a higher quality plot, and the Grand Cru rating is reserved for the highest quality vineyards available. As worldwide demand has grown in the last 20 years, Champagne production has become limited by the supply of certified arable land and the constrained supply has led to a predictable spike in prices of grapes as well as the land itself.

The Möet tour concluded with a glass of bubbly and an exit through a gift shop (which had the feel of a duty-free boutique in some modern airport) and we wandered over to the Épernay tourist office to avail ourselves of a free list of smaller Houses which might have product available for purchase without the marketing overhead of Möet & Chandon. A break for lunch gave my liver any opportunity it needed to catch up, we selected an address from a lo-tech photocopied brochure and the GPS led us to the small town of Aÿ at the base of the vineyard hills north of Épernay. On the way, we both had a feeling of déjà vu as I rolled down the window to feel the air and agreed we could have been driving east from the ocean toward the pass over the costal California hills near Watsonville (berry capitol of the world).


No corporate edifices in Aÿ, just small and well kept streets, buildings and houses bearing the names of small familial Champagne Houses, often ending with & fils (and sons). We arrived at 1:30PM and walked the nearly deserted streets in search of local flavor. As we quickly learned, the independent producers close from 1:00PM to 2:00PM for lunch. We realized this after misreading a sign and wandering through an open gate into what turned out to be the backyard of an elderly couple who came out to see who had tromped in. After a laugh, we returned to our original destination, the dual brands of Richard Fliniaux and J.J. Richard & Fils.


With the time now a few minutes past 2:00PM, we found the previously closed gate had since been opened and we poked our heads in where a friendly Frenchman in his 30s waved us in and seated us at a small table. Although he disagreed with our assessment, his English was quite good and we began chatting as he poured up a pair of flutes. He fetched his post-lunch coffee and we sat and talked for at least an hour about his family's business, beginning in 1905 through today. James Jacques, our host, is a fifth generation winemaker having learned from his parents, inheriting their business along with five hectares of Grand Cru vineyards. James was very candid about the wine business discussing the difficulties (2003 was a bad year and most of the region's crop was lost), along with the temptations of modern wealth (current market rate for one hectare of Grand Cru vineyard: €1.5M). Also, because of the increasing demand for Champagne, the raw materials for winemaking--the grapes themselves--had become so valuable that the cost of turning his grapes into wine was such that he might make more money just by selling the harvest to a bigger House.

The contrast between the large, commercial, glossy Houses and the small family operations was quite stark. The bottling machine was visible in the garage next to the tasting room attached to the house. Easily selling the 100,000 bottles a year he produces, James explained he and most of the other small Houses have to close several months a year, as there is no product to sell and nothing to do except wait for the contents of their cellars to mature. James did rue the market conditions which forced the champagne from the cellars to the store shelves too quickly ("most champagnes I taste are too young, too dry"). Through all the talk of the difficulties of failed crops and increasing demand, tight finances and bank loans, Euro exchange rates and unfathomable land values, James would smile and shrug, never actually saying "but what would this family do if we sold out?" but the thought was almost tangible in the room. He vocalized the blessing of his inherited land and through it, had a connection to family I had never before encountered. If anything, his contentment was the most remarkable thing of the time we shared. In the face of swirling economic uncertainty, he acknowledged his industry is driven by the wealthy with a hopeful attitude that he and his family will continue on the land they have worked for over 100 years.