From time to time, I find a delightful and reasonably priced wine in the Pennsylvania state store. So it was for one little gem I bought twice in the past month, Domaine des Baluettes Les Coteaux Muscadet Sèvre et Maine 2013. I noticed this Chairman’s Selection® French wine is no longer available, but I tell you, it was a lovely wine for just under $11 a bottle and converted me to Muscadet.
Qu’est-ce que c’est?
Muscadet (pictured above) is located in the Pays Nantais area of France’s Loire Valley, close to the Atlantic Ocean. Muscadet Sèvre et Maine is the largest of three Muscadet sub-appellations. The two others are Muscadet Coteaux de la Loire and Muscadet Côtes de Grandlieu. Because grapes here get less sun than their central and eastern Loire cousins, the wine tends to be light in body and alcohol.
The understated white grape used to make Muscadet is Melon de Bourgogne. When was the last time you strolled into a wine store anywhere and asked for Melon de Bourgogne? You probably haven’t. That’s because, on its own, Melon is a rather obscure grape that produces a fairly nondescript wine.
But ah, France, home to wine geniuses who let these unassuming fermented winegrapes rest on their spent yeast – sur lie in French. Then they famously serve up their richer, slightly savory Muscadet with briny oysters fresh from the sea. I’ve read this classic pairing is divine.
What we locals do
I generally don’t shop for oysters in my little corner of the keystone state. But I do frequent our area’s numerous and bountiful farmers’ markets, where enterprising stand holders offer up a host of enticing local specialties. A stand holder at one of these markets makes her own turkey sausage – only turkey sausage, in many varieties – and yummy turkey chorizo, too.
I came home recently with several links of her Chipotle turkey sausage and waited as patiently as possible for dinner time to roll around so I could drop this promising poultry into a frying pan and pair it with my chilling Muscadet.
At last, the time arrived. After everything was ready, I opened and poured the Muscadet. It was pleasantly fruity but true to its nature, understated, with just a whiff of grapefruit and a hint of lime on the palate. Coupling it with the turkey sausage perhaps wasn’t as genius a stroke as resting the fermented grapes sur lie, but it was quite brilliant nonetheless, if I must say so myself. The modest Muscadet handled the Chipotle’s heat beautifully, and the wine’s slightly savory notes complemented the succulent meatiness of the fried sausage.
Yes, I was happy with my 2013 Muscadet. Meanwhile, those who’ve tasted the 2014 vintage say it’s the best ever, thanks to abundant September sunshine that sweetened up the fruit and concentrated the juice. Can’t wait ’till it finds its way to a Pennsylvania state store near me!
Read more about “The Awesome Pairing Power of Muscadet” from a Food & Wine writer who stuffed his trunk full of bottles several years ago and toured the South in search of pork and chicken to accompany his wine of choice. Then experiment for yourself. How does Muscadet enrich your next meal? Let me know!
Bon appétit!