HAPPY DAYS, AND NIGHTS, AT CHÂTEAUNEUF-DU-PAPE

SPRING-SUMMER 2025

“WHEN YOU ARE IN CHÂTOHNEUF-DO-PAPE, YOU DRINK CHÂTOHNEUF-DO-PAPE”

About 15 years ago, a couple of, then young, growers at Châteauneuf-du-Pape decided that there should be a spring festival to replace what had previously occurred in the sometimes sweltering heat of early August.

The move was led by Amélie Barrot, whose family has owned the venerable, large Château des Fines Roches for decades, the Château itself termed by me “the rather Hollywood Gothic-style Château” in one of my books, wherein I signalled their success in the vintages of 1979, 1983 and 1985.

Then there was Julien Barrot, whose domaine is now called La Barroche. I used to eat in Julien’s cramped kitchen with local lads and lasses, calling it Chez Barrot. He has made giant steps forward since those days, his drive apparent from the start, the wines bearing a flamboyance allied to that of their owner.

The third member of the group creating the change was Céline Sabon of Clos du Mont-Olivet, one of my long-term favourite estates, whose vertical tasting going back to 1988 was a highlight of 2024 for me.

Each year, the event has grown, to encompass high quality cooked dishes as well as varieties of Comté and Savoyard cheese, oysters and truffles. There are also workshops that this year gave refined food and wine pairings, vintages of wine going back to the early 2000s, while the eminent geologist, my very good buddy Georges Truc, his 83^rd birthday on board on the Sunday, conducted a geo-sensorial exercise in tasting wines from different terroirs, asking the attendees to offer whether they felt their texture from soils ranging from limestone to clay to sand and big stones resembled, silk, taffeta, satin, blue jeans and so on.

The striking aspect of the Friday afternoon to late Sunday afternoon, beyond the sheer numbers – over 8,000 people – was the amount of young present to visit the 100 domaines.

Jean-Paul Versino of Domaine Bois de Boursan told me: “there were prams everywhere, a lot of Belgians, a group of 25 semi-pros from Indiana (USA), Swiss, Swedish. The young find the tannins a little tricky” – he includes the stems on his two main cuvées – “but if you explain to them that they can pair with herbal or spiced dishes of similar depth, then they understand more about them.”

The bottom line is there are active sales going on all the time, as I witnessed the somewhat diminutive Laurent Charvin pushing his flat bottomed trolley loaded with cases into the legs and ankles around him, while his neighbour in the northern sector of the appellation, Jérôme Grieco of Domaine La Biscarelle was heard muttering “I’m too old for this” when unloading his vertical two handled trolley called the diable/devil, with plenty of panting after wheeling it from some way away.

Victor Coulon of the immaculate Domaine de Beaurenard, where I conducted a 33 wine vertical going back to 1990 on the Monday after Printemps, is one of the current organisers.

He told me: “Printemps is a great collective operation, especially after years of disaccord between growers here. These days, it’s rare to encounter so many domaines in person, taste so many Grand Vins, especially given Châteauneuf is such a prestigious appellation. Things are open at every level, and if you compare to other very grand regions, those have often become inaccessible today.”

The event was given streamlined service by the 100 blue topped volunteers in their early twenties, their prime for emptying spittoons, delivering lost mobile telephones to their owners, taking wine to cars (girls better tipped than boys) and helping to direct visitors being six bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

The nights were lively affairs, the recently opened Bar C pounding out noisy, pretty dreadful French rock and plenty of cocktails with over 500 people on the Place in front of the hall enjoying a Saturday evening with local food, a gastronomic market, and a DJ, a Drag Queen, and more uptempo music. As one organiser told me: “some people come just to eat well, rather than taste wine.”

This year’s Printemps conveyed a definite sense of adventure, joy and, above all, fun, a release after what has been a wet and long winter, with barely any green shoots on the vines by the end of the first week of April. In the current context of worrying world news going drip-drip-drip into minds, this was a real fiesta that lifted the spirits.

On the Sunday, I was talking to Vincent Maurel at his Clos Saint Jean stand, when a voice next to me intoned in English: “could I buy a bottle of your Combe des Fous, please?” Vincent was serving the 2022 to taste, a 16° wine, costing €84, that I described as “having thick juice but sound flow, handles itself with depth and rounded concentration, a hum of power on the exit, drink from 2028-29.”

The next question was “can you open it for me?” I looked at this intrepid American visitor, and remarked that he was obviously not going to trifle with a rosé for his picnic lunch outside in the sun. His reply was succinct: “when you’re in Châtohneuf-do-Pape, you drink Châtohneuf-do-Pape.” What a player.