Showing posts with label Chateau Clos de Vougeot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chateau Clos de Vougeot. Show all posts

Saturday, August 1, 2009

The seat of the Confrerie. Friday 31st July 2009.

We cruised slowly around the hills that rise form behind the city of Beaune this morning, admiring the bunches of grapes on the vines, stuck somewhere between green and deep purple. We found a perfect spot for a picnic in the vineyards, something that is on our to do list before leaving Burgundy.

We stopped in at Parc de la Bourzaize with its central lake inhabited with ducks, geese and swans. I thought this would be a nice place to bring AJ, the row boats were locked up unattended today which was a shame. Anyway, the vineyards or the parc were not big enough for our family of three and a load full of adolescent hormones and it all went pear shaped. JR and I did have a laugh trying to get on this whizzy dizzy thing that goes around, I ended up flat on my back laughing so much I couldn't get up.



AJ stayed home wallowing in hormones while JR and I headed out for a while. We had three tries to find lunch today. The first try was at a bar in Vougeot. If you are ever wondering where the people are that live in French villages, push open the door of the local bar/restaurant. This one was packed beyond belief, it was full of vineyard workers with grubby smiles on their faces and contented tummies. We sat at a thoroughly grubby table, part of the charm I thought, we sat, and we sat, and we sat. Apparently we weren't locals here and service of any kind kept a far distance, so we left.

The next try was at a van by the side of the road, you know the scene, sometimes these lunch stops end up to be delightful little gems. We were a bit suss, but I went ahead and ordered the lamb. The guy turned on his heels, lifted the lid of the deep freeze and we heard the clunk of frozen lamb chops hitting china. "Non merci", I said, motioning back and forth with my hands and my head. I tried to keep smiling and as we floored it out of the carpark, a cloud of dust in our wake, I am certain the cook had no idea where he had gone wrong. I can only presume those deep frozen lamb chops would have been popped into the microwave, slapped in a pan for a bit of colour and slid onto my plate. All for €8, thats $16 AUD guys!
On we drove, the situation was bleak and our tummies were rumbling at a fast rate of knots. I noticed a bar, come cafe, come boulanger, it was the only thing open, come to think of it, it was the only thing there in Morey-St-Denis. Time was not on our side, it was now 2.30pm. "Are we too late for lunch?" I asked, smiling. Grandma was summonsed from the back room, "Oui, oui," she said, we were relieved. We slipped from the boulangerie side over to the bar, small, with only three purple tables and a bar at the back. Christopher was holding up the bar and was glad to see a few friendly faces to engage. He worked at a winery along the Route des Grand Cru towards Beaune. He took a seat right beside me at the table and switched between reading his paper and including himself in our conversation. The situation became even more bizarre as the three kids belonging to the owners noticed us, we were like a new exhibition at the zoo. Grandma came back to the dining room with a baking tray filled with witlof wrapped in ham and blanketed in a conte cheese sauce, "Would you like this, and steak frittes?" The kids were tentative at first, then the little girl unwrapped a disposable camera and began clicking away at us as we ate our rather chewy steak and greasy frittes. The kids took the frittes I offered, and with every one that was passed from my fingers to theirs, they said the most perfectly polite "Merci Madame". As soon as Christopher left the seat beside me, the little girl grabbed it, there she stayed, just gazing at us and smilling, clicking away on her disposable camera.
The food was pretty ordinary, but today was about being in the moment in a little village where life is about more than the quality of the steak or matching cutlery, it's real, and gosh it was beautiful.
We had a meeting organised at Chateau Clos de Vougeot this afternoon so we pushed off, so did Christopher on this bike.
The Chateau was built by the monks of Citeaux beginning in the 12th century. This was unlike any other Chateau we had visited and it was lovely to see something so old and unique. The ceiling beams are all original, as are the terracotta tiles on the roof, not even a new screw has been added I was told by our lovely guide. The wine presses on display are the biggest in the world and each one took 20 men to operate it.





We were able to see behind the scenes a little too which was very special. We were taken to the Chateau's old dining room where there is a servery surronded by bevilled edged mirrors, with a cupboard underneath which is a dumb-waiter, serviced from the kitchen underneath.




The door was unlocked to the Salon d'Honneur where new members of the Confrerie des Chevaliers de Tastevin are welcomed. It is an auspicious room, dominated by regal red and warm timber. Through the following door is a very special room called the Salon des Commanderies, the room of the ambassadors of the confrerie from around the world. This room is a mossy green and is hung with an enormous painting of the founders from 1934. One of the members ribbons hung with a silver wine tasting cup was taken from under lock and key for us to see. The ribbons are suitably important looking, red and gold, red for the vin rouge and gold for the vin blanc. I quizzed Marie Louise about getting my hands on a menu from one of the meetings, the original menu would surely have been kept. Jackpot, she unveiled one from 2004, a meeting where three new members were inducted, one being Charlotte Rampling. The guests dined on... you'll have to wait for the book for that one!
Happiness had been restored back at Combertault and all of the nasty and unrully hormones had fled, thank goodness. We had been invited to Annie and Thomas's place for drinks and snacks at 7.30pm. Their neighbors arrived too. They are Alex's friend, Jeremy's parents, Jeremy wasn't there though as he is staying with his Grandparents this week, it's summer holidays here. AJ and Jeremy will catch up during the week before we leave Burgundy on Friday - Paris bound!
We had a lovely night. Thomas (Annie's son) is a wine maker and begins a new job at a winery in Corsica this Wednesday, I think Annie will miss him. He is so thoughtful, tonight he had organised a wine degustation for us with Chardonay wines from three different regions, showing us, or rather letting us discover, the different nuances between each. We all sat with our row of glasses before us, sniffing and slurping. Number two was for me from the region of chablis, north of Dijon. AJ happily slurped on lemonade.


Annie had prepared some nibbles of jambon persille, comte fromage, goats cheese, smoked salmon and AJ's favourites - gougres. She told us she had been reading the blog belonging to our home-exchange family from Combertault and brought it up on the computer to show us. What a funny situation to find ourselves in. Here we were in Burgundy, in the home of friends of the people on the computer screen and there they were all relazing in our home back in Australia. There were pictures of the girls in the kitchen whipping up a storm, it was a surreal moment and I must say very strange.
Bon chance for your new wine making adventure in Corsica Thomas!