salvatoreI was recently back in the arms of my first love. Seriously, it was amazing. But it’s OK, you can tell my wife, Sue – in fact, she was with me.
It’s not what you think, though, it was all quite respectable. We were in France for one of the annual highlights of the Cognac calendar, the “La Part des Anges” Charity Auction and Dinner. And I think I was finally able to help her understand why I have such a passion for the spirit I call liquid gold.
The auction was held in Bourg-Charente last month, where some of the world’s rarest cognacs were auctioned before an international audience of 500 people. The sale of 23 lots of rare and unique bottles of cognac, all donated by houses such as Hine, Remy Martin, Delamain and Hennessy, raised nearly €50,000.
To me, this visit was like returning to a magical place, meeting old friends who I had met researching my book, Cognac – A Liquid History. It was meeting the cognac houses’ master blenders that originally left me an intense experience of cognac, and it did the same for my wife this time around.
At Frapin, 87-year-old Max Cointreau welcomed us for lunch at the family’s cellars (it turns out he shares the same birthday as my wife), then Olivier Paultes, Frapin’s cellar master, took us out to the vineyards – the starting block for the cognacs for which he has won many awards.
He showed us how the house is re-introducing the folle blanche grape variety, notoriously difficult to grow. And you could see why, straight away. They are tighter in the bunch, sweeter, and their skin thinner, compared to the usual ugni blanc grapes. If any bacteria goes into the grapes, the whole bunch can go mouldy extremely quickly – it’s why these grapes were so susceptible to phylloxera, the diseases that decimated European grapes in the 19th Century. I can’t wait to see how it affects the taste of his cognac.
We were honoured that Olivier opened up a 33-year-old cask – bottled the same year that Sue and I met – from his ‘dry’ cellar. Frapin is one of the few houses that ages cognac in two ways: the majority in a conventional, ‘damp’ cellar, but a small amount, probably no more than 50 casks, in a ‘dry’ cellar, basically a loft. It has the effect of ageing the cognac faster, somehow and gives it a distinct taste – in this case creating a dry cognac with spicy notes, and just a hint of vanilla and cinnamon – true liquid music.
We also visited the house of Pierre Ferrand for a barbecue with host Alexandre Gabriel. But this was like no other barbecue I’ve ever been to. We moved from a 20-year-old cognac to a 30-year-old. As if that was not enough, we then tried a 45-year-old and sighed over a 70-year-old. We finished with a superb 1914 (The Year of the Lady). It’ll be hard to recreate that experience next time I’m trying to light the charcoal in my back garden, I can tell you.
Another highlight was a trip to the cooperage to see how barrels are constructed. Only a small section of the French limousin oak is used and the wood must be at least 100 years old. That’s why it’s so rare. The art of cognac starts with the oak cask — you can distil spirit to perfection but if you don’t have the right oak to rest it in, you’ve wasted your time!
The other reason the Bureau Interprofessional du Cognac (BNIC) had invited me over came as a complete surprise, and it left me speechless. I was named the first International Cognac Personality of the Year.
The ceremony was in French but to my amazement, I heard my name. There I was, among all of these cognac professionals, writers and legends of cognac – from France, Germany, the USA and the UK. “Are you sure you have the right person?” I asked – after all, I’m an Italian living in London, very much a foreigner in the heart of a very French world. What can I say? It is a great honour.
On another note, at the opening of the official dinner, the waitresses went round the tables pouring what looked like chilled white wine. It had a hint of citrus and dryness, and some people were knocking it back like there was no tomorrow, but there were many puzzled looks about it too. Eventually someone said, “I think the wine is off”. Turned out the liquid was nothing more than a palate cleanser: a very light mixture of cognac and chilled water, made to a one to 10 ratio. Who said the French have no sense of humour? |