Dear Pinot Noir,
I do not remember exactly when we first met, probably at a party or a business dinner. But it was not love at first sight. I remember you were pleasant, easy to be with, a bit flirtatious, and incredibly smooth. But something deeper drew me to you: wanting to know more and spending time in your company.
I traveled to your French homeland of Burgundy to be closer to you and see how our relationship might develop. Staying in the village of Meursault, you surrounded me, your terroir, and your heritage. I could see budding vines from the window of my rented chateau and rode my bicycle through your vineyards of Volnay, Puligny-Montrachet, Chassagne-Montrachet, Santenay, Pommard, and Beaune. Soaking up your beauty and getting to know your roots, soils, and landscape. I was falling for you.
You took center stage Pinot Noir, at a catered dinner party at the chateau. As we poured you into our glasses from a magnum vessel of Albert Bichot Hospices de Beaune, you proudly displayed your bold but scrumptious red fruit flavors, hint of mushroom, and leathery spices. Alas, I forget which appellation or vintage the wine came from, but I was captivated.
Pinot Noir grapes on the vine.
I left Burgundy after two weeks in your constant presence. How was I going to live without you in my glass every day? To soften the blow, I had two cases of premier cru wines from a small producer in Santenay and another in Gevrey-Chambertin shipped to my home in the United States. But it would not be the same as looking upon your leaves and canes while cradling a glass of your deliciousness in my hands. My love was growing.
I realized it was time to make a commitment to our relationship and go beyond the superficial aspects of your flavor profile. I needed to understand your background, history, and the people who raised you. So, I returned to Burgundy to immerse myself in a master class on the wines of Bourgogne (Burgundy).
For five intense days, I drank in every drop of knowledge and taste of you, Pinot Noir, and fraternized with your sibling Chardonnay, which was mere flirtation. You alone had stolen my heart, and I came away even more deeply committed to our relationship. I left you with a deeper appreciation and understanding of why you are the way you are, finicky, fragile, and challenging to nurture. A profound sadness came over me at having to leave you once again.
Chateau Chambre Vineyard in Mercurey.
For the next 12 months, I savored the moments we had shared with the dozen bottles I brought back in my suitcase. I carefully and intentionally spaced out my consumption, afraid of drinking them all in a passionate fury to be close to you. I started planning my
next visit, this time for three weeks.
Renting a house in Chagny gave me access to parts of your terroir that I had yet to experience. In the Côte Chalonnaise, I frolicked with you in the Rully, Mercurey, Givry, and Montagny villages. And I trekked up to the northern branch of your family tree in Marsannay, where you absolutely deserve a premier cru title.
I came to see you in a different light on this visit, uncovering your multi-dimensional character with each sip. High on the hills of the Hautes-Côtes de Beaune, you let down your guard in the commune of Nantoux, displaying limestone-driven freshness of strawberry and cherry fruit in my lunch wine. You were robust and brooding in Pommard, slowly releasing your juicy goodness while throwing astringent tannins into my glass. Yet there you were again, drawing me in with a whisper of elegance in Chorey-les-Beaune.
Marsannay Paired with Mushroom Risotto.
Once again, I returned home bursting with “amore” for you, Pinot Noir. Nine cases of your soul-soothing liquid were shipped to my door so I could continue my adoration as frequently as my heart desired. I regularly visit you in my wine cellar, contemplating and planning when to experience each bottle. I worry that if I wait too long to open a bottle of your luscious liquid, you will have lost your luster, panache, and wallow in my glass, expired, unable to quench my loving thirst. And what if I open you too soon? And you are unpleasantly tight, reserved, and unwilling to share your beauty.
Ours is a complicated relationship. And I occasionally have to separate myself from you and enjoy the company of Pinot Noir wine bred in other wine regions of the world.
But Burgundian Pinot Noir, you are my first and true love. And if I can only have one grape, one wine, for the rest of my life, I choose you.
Forever yours with love,
Susan
Bottles of Pinot Noir in the wine cellar.
This Love Letter was originally written for the Jancis Robinson 2025 Wine Writing Competition.
