René Engel must have been a wonderful man. He studied wine-making before fighting in the trenches during the first world war, and spending some time in German captivity. He then went home to run — and improve — the family domaine in Vosne-Romanée. In those days, most Burgundian growers still thought of themselves as farmers who made wine. Few aspired to the glamour enjoyed by their counterparts in Bordeaux. Their viniculture was instinctive, traditional — and sometimes improvised.
Pinot Noir is not an easy grape. Left to itself, especially if there is a poor summer, it can produce a thin liquid. So the Burgundians occasionally helped it along. Those wonderful blackberry-coloured Burgundies bottled by Avery’s and beloved by Bron Waugh: it is unlikely that they were all pure Pinot. Then came the EU. We Brits fondly — sometimes self-pityingly — believe that the UK is the only country which enforces EU law. The truth is more complex. On wine-making, even the Burgundians conformed.
They were able to do so, and make superb Pinot Noirs, because vinification techniques had improved. René Engel deserves a lot of credit for that. While he was making wine, he was also thinking about the craft, to the extent that he was invited to become the professor of oenology at Dijon University. He helped to ensure that Burgundy was not only able to meet the challenges imposed by the EU. It could raise its game while doing so. The old man lived to be 92. Notionally retired for some years, he went on interfering to the end. In five vineyards, whose total size was only 15 acres, the Engel wines got better and better. I have recently tasted a number of them.
First came a 2000 Clos de Vougeot grand cru, quickly followed by a 1999 Grands Echezeaux.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in