From the blurb on the bottle, five generations of Luquets have been making this wine, and more power to them. Wine’s allure is at least partly because of its links to the past, a collective memory that goes beyond last night. The ancient Romans drank wine; I drink wine; therefore I might have been a Roman.
That’s silly on many levels. Romans breathed air and waged war and built aqueducts, but we don’t daydream about those. Consumption of wine implies sophistication. Who wouldn’t want to associate with that, as well as togas? Togas are awesome.
Ahem. So yes, the knowledge of vineyard, weather, vine, fermentation and maturation is something that gains patina with time. It’s what makes Old World wine old world wine, and therefore different from New World wine. In a modern universe of the consumer driving style, the Old World wins hands down in my mind. Consumers often know nothing.
But if they did know something, they’d buy this wine. A glass of this is a glass of history. It’s also a glass of geography. And it happens to be a glass of delicious wine. You might find a nose of salted nuts, petroleum and simple chardonnay aromatics.
After that, look for bright citrus and fresh-cut Granny Smith apples, minerals, flowers, and a creamy saltiness that gives way to deliciously oily acids. Contradiction in terms? Okay. You win. Now taste the wine.