Our last day in Burgundy begins with a morning drive to see Francois Labet at Chateau de la Tour, in the Grand Cru vineyard of Clos de Vougeot. Labet wears both the dress and demeanor of the consummate country gentleman. It’s snowing outside, but his heated chateau allows him to greet us in golden corduroys, a brown velvet Nehru jacket and loafers. He speaks quietly, with an almost lilting cadence. His tan skin belies a recent trip to Corsica, or maybe Madagascar. Labet’s family owns two domaines, Chateau de la Tour, and Pierre Labet. I comment on the impressive number of hectares between them, and he immediately praises Sarkozy’s sweeping efforts to help families keep their properties intact via lower inheritance taxes.

We start with the Pierre Labet wines. This label works exclusively with domaine-owned vines. They have farmed organically since 1992, using neither fertilizer nor compost nor clones. Since 1987, he has vinified his reds using only whole clusters, which he points out “requires serious sorting in tough vintages like 2007.” He performs some cold maceration, aims for long fermentations, and has made wine organically since 2005.

Francois loves the 2007 vintage, in spite of its early start. With so many hectares to manage, he determines picking time by regularly cutting sample bunches from across his vineyards and sending them to Dijon for analysis. He hands racks all of his reds, and performs neither fining nor filtration. We begin in the upstairs tasting room with some recently bottled selections. We try his old vines 2007 Bourgogne rouge, and move on to his two Beaune reds, the Clos des Dessus Marconnets and Coucherias. After the Labet reds, we sample the Chateau de la Tour Clos de Vougeot Cuvee Classique. This selection comes from vines that average fifty years in age. Next come three Labet whites, a 2007 Beaune blanc, a Savigny Vergelesses, and a Meursault Tillets. He lessens the impact of oak on his whites by using 350-liter barrels instead of the traditional 225-liter size.

As we swirl, sip, spit and scribble notes, Francois offers his opinion of the 2006 and 2007 vintages, relative to 2005. “I didn't like the '05s. We are now back to real Burgundy. Elegance, finesse—not just power…”

Under the Chateau de la Tour label, Francois makes two cuvees, one from vines averaging about fifty years old, and the “vieilles vignes” from vines at least seventy years old.

Via spiral stone staircase, move down to the caves to taste the 2007 Clos de Vougeot wines from barrel. Some barrels will end up in the regular cuvee; those that come from the oldest vines, and show sufficient structure and complexity, will make up the “vieilles vignes” bottling. Given the countless rules and regulations forced upon French vignerons, I am amazed that no law defines the term “old vines.” Francois assures me that his wines come from vines that range from fifty, to ninety-seven years in age. As individual vines die off, he replants them one-by-one, in order to maintain this high average age. We sample four different barrels; each will contribute its particular characteristics to a final blend. The first shows intense fore- and mid-palate tannins. The second displays less astringency, but significantly higher acidity. The third expresses the most complex and overt aromatics of the bunch. The fourth strikes me as totally compacted, as well as completely dumb. Francois sees me cringe and asks me what I think. “The last barrel is chewy, and really hard to taste.” Justin deems it “unapproachable.” The first three, Francois tells us, will make up the regular cuvee. The last comes from 97 year-old vines, and will be the backbone of the higher-end, longer-lived wine. It matures in 100% new oak, and will take decades to mature.

Francois inquires about our trip thus far. Michael mentions Champagne, which piques our host’s interest. “Which Champagnes do you import?” he asks. We talk about Coutier and Agrapart, and Francois nods approvingly. “In Burgundy, we drink the Champagnes of the vigneron.” By “vigneron,” he means farmer/winemaker. I recall that, to date, I have not seen any Taittinger, Bollinger, or Roederer in our hosts’ cellars. Not even Krug. I have seen Pierre Moncuit and Agrapart.

Justin mentions my birthday dinner at Lameloise, and Francois perks up. He asks my age, and I tell him that I turned thirty in Burgundy. His eyes glimmer with inspiration, and he dashes around the corner, deep into the family cellar. He returns with a bottle of 1979 Clos de Vougeot in his hands. I stammer, blush, and manage an astonished “thank you.” The “free wine thing” is a little bit embarrassing. Once we’re back in the car, I know that I’ll have to endure endless hours of teasing from Michael and Justin. Francois’ generous gesture only boosts their ammo. To boot, he insists on inscribing the bottle with gold ink and wrapping it in a styrofoam travel box.

After a quick lunch in Nuits-St.-Georges, we drive south, to the Maconnais. As we head into the verdant, rolling hills, I see exactly why Dominique Lafon chose this area. Our first appointment is at Manciat-Poncet, with proprietress Marie-Pierre. All smiles and laughter, tall, tan and blonde, she makes an excellent ambassador for the region.

The Maconnais benefits from slightly warmer weather, and its Chardonnays and reds, from Pinot and Gamay, are rounder and more lush (if not as complex, or long-lived) and cheaper than those from the Cote de Beaune and Cote de Nuits. In Justin’s words, the “delicious factor is high.” We taste through about a dozen whites, from Pouilly-Fuisse to Macon-Charnay, as well as an impressively affordable Pinot/Gamay blend, before we continue further south to Beaujolais.

Our drive late afternoon drive delivers more picturesque towns framed by molten pastel skies. We explore and wander until we’re lost. I begin to think that life south of Beaune might not be so bad, after all…

Dominique and Kristine Piron await us in the village of Morgon. Dominque’s family has owned the domaine since 1697. Kristine is an American oeonologist whose family owns vineyards in Sonoma. She and Dominique met when she came to France as part of a winemaker exchange program. As we taste, talk turns immediately to “La Crise” and its local impact. Beaujolais makes a lot more wine than Burgundy properand estates are generally less flush. Here, price/demand concerns lie much closer to the surface.

The Pirons have expanded their domaine from fifteen to fifty hectares in just a few short years. They make wine at five different facilities in as many different villages.This scattered production derives from AOC laws that used to dictate that Beaujolais wine be vinified in its particular village of origin. This law changed, and the Pirons now want to expand their main winery to centralize production. In spite of the Pirons’ excellent credit and obvious success, nervous banks seem reluctant to lend the necessary funds.

The Pirons also aim to snatch up more vineyards in the very near term. Until recently prices had plummeted in the Beaujolais region. The old guard lacks heirs interested in carrying on the family tradition; rather than take up the reigns, many sell off the vines as quickly and cheaply as possible. Moreover, the bottom fell out of the bulk market, to which Beaujolais contributed a significant portion. Now, prices are on the rise. Many Burgundian vignerons have their sites set on this region. AOC laws allow Burgundy producers to label Beaujolais wines as “Bourgogne.” By buying vineyards in Beaujolais, Burgundians at once avoid the high cost of real estate in their own back yard, and boost stocks of their entry-level production.

Per Kristine, 2008 delivered a difficult growing season in Beaujolais. A very cool spring and summer gave way to a cold, rainy end of season. Although the showers cleared in August, hail at the end of the month resulted in a small, but high-quality crop. They did not start harvest until September 25th.

The relatively low pricepoint of Beaujolais often misleads consumers. Production for the best cru wines—which should not be confused with Beaujolais Nouveau--is extremely labor-intensive. Law dictates that grapes must be hand-harvested, and vinifcation requires just as much attention as any other fine red. The Pirons carefully craft almost a dozen delicious, affordable wines. Traditional Beaujolais vinification uses whole clusters, but Kristine sometimes de-stems her grapes if the stalks are not fully ripe. She uses only organic products in the vineyard. Horsetail weed, for instance, boosts the immune system of the vines, eliminating the need for fungicides. Her more full-bodied wines see a cold soak of between twenty-four and forty-eight hours, and alcoholic fermentation takes up to three weeks. Throughout the process, she tastes her wines several times a day. For about twenty dollars, their top bottling, the Beaujolais Chenas “Quartz,” easily outshines every California Pinot available at that price, and higher.

The day ends with dinner chez Piron, a fifteenth-century farmhouse surrounded by vineyards. Of course, we kick things off with a lobe of foie gras. For the duration of our meal, talk of the wine market dominates the conversation. Kristine wants to know how much Americans will pay for Beaujolais Nouveau. How much will they pay for cru Beaujolais? How can vingerons raise the profile of cru Beaujolais? We discuss VinExpo, a trade fair that the Pirons pay $10,000 to enter. This annual venture gains them one customer--at best. Even their importers for other countries don’t seem to care all that much about the region. Dominique just partnered with an Indian wine distributor. Michael, they tell me, is the only agent to visit them each and every year.