I can barely contain myself as we make our way to our morning appointment with Jean-Marc Roulot. Michael does not import Jean-Marc’s wines; Kermit Lynch has the contract. However, Jean-Marc is married to Alix de Montille, our host’s sister, and this relationship gains us entrée to the domaine. Jean-Marc’s wines occupy cult status among Burgundy connoisseurs. In France, his stage and film accomplishments almost outshine his winemaking reputation. Given his fame, I expect to meet somebody fairly aloof. In fact, he comes across as one of the most down-to-earth, pensive vignerons thus far.

We taste the entire 2007 lineup, as well as a number of 2006, 2005, and 2004 wines. Jean-Marc tells us that he is happily surprised with the 2007s, given that he had to postpone harvest. Justin points out a number of bins that hold several hundred standing bottles. “Why aren’t they on their lying down, on their side?” Jean-Marc explains that he prefers to leave just-bottled wine upright for a few days, if not a week. He believes that this gives the cork a better chance to expand more fully, and fill in any possible gaps. This brings us to the inevitable issue of premature oxidation. Jean-Marc expresses particular concern about the ageability of his wines. He asks me if I’ve had any older Roulot bottlings that show signs of early fatigue. “Yes, but only two.” Uncertain as to the cause of this phenomenon, Jean-Marc now takes every possible precaution. He uses only paraffin-coated corks, and aims for thirty, to thirty-five parts per million of free SO2.

For lunch, Michael chooses Caves Madeleine, in Beaune. He knows the owner through a friend’s restaurant, near his vacation home, in Spain. Vegetable soup and veal cutlet offset the winter cold and pouring rain, and a 2001 Saumur Blanc by Chateau Yvonne provides a momentary break from a long week of Chardonnay.

Later that afternoon we finally meet up with the elusive Etienne, at the de Montille winery. He looks a little tired. A former lawyer and investment banker, Etienne took over the domaine of his father, Hubert de Montille, in 1995, and Chateau de Puligny-Montrachet in 2001. We taste all of the 2007 wines made under his father’s label. Etienne explains that, in general, he feels good about the balance of the vintage. Most wines finished between 12.2% and 12.8% alcohol by volume, and show naturally high acidity. Rot affected some of the grapes, but proved easy to sort out because it developed on the exterior of the bunches, rather than running up the interior stalk. These conditions allowed him to use more whole clusters than the year prior. In short, his 2007 vinification process came much closer to that of 2005 than 2006.

We move on to the 2007 Deux Montille wines, produced as a joint venture between Etienne and Alix. He makes the reds; she makes the whites. They aim to find under-the-radar, up-and-coming appellations, and produce well-made wines at pricepoints below those of their more esteemed vineyards. They work with villages like St.-Roman, Auxey-Duresses, and Rully, much in the same way the Lafon applies his exepertise in the Macconais.

As we leave the warehouse, Etienne suggests that we stop by his father’s house to select some old bottles for dinner. Hubert greets me at the door, takes my hands in his, and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Elle est enchantée!” he says to Michael, and I’m immediately charmed. But I have no time revel, as his massive yellow lab, Hector, jumps up to cover me with mud and affection. Etienne, Michael, Hector and I proceed to the cellar, where we choose the 1979 and 1995 Pommard Rugiens, 1991 Volnay Champans, and 1998 Volnay Taillepieds. Etienne picks the first bottle in honor of my birthday, and I realize that I’ve made a grave mistake. I should have told him that I was born in 1978.

Once back at the chateau, Etienne insists that I drop my notebook and focus on having a good time. The Champagne starts flowing, and Etienne switches from sleepy to spry. His sister, Alix, takes over the kitchen to prepare the meal. Jean-Marc joins us. Michael warns me that I’m in for a killer experience, as Alix has interned with some of France’s top chefs. Alix whips burned bread crumbs into a bowl of heavy cream. She uses this to top the squash soup that starts the meal. The crunchy/smoky combination seems more interesting than flavorful, but I’m really too focused on the wines to care. Perfectly cooked top round roast and potato gratin make up the main course. A salad and a selection of ripe cheeses follow. My favorite by far is the Citeaux, a Burgundian specialty that is neither exported nor made anywhere outside of the region.

The evening wears on, into the wee hours, and we empty a lot of bottles. Michael regales us with tales of Etienne’s time in San Francisco, when Michael worked at Chez Panisse, and Etienne crashed on his apartment floor. Hubert falls asleep in his chair. Etienne’s son, Louis, curls up on the couch. Alix and her friend from Paris smoke a few cigarettes as they sit on the floor and flip trhough coffee table books. The rest of us sip a pear eaux-de-vie made by Jean-Marc’s family. Conversation wanes, and Michael and I head to our guestrooms.