Well-aged wine has the capacity to surprise in ways that few other beverages can. While it’s relatively easy to tell when a particular bottling that’s built for the cellar will mature gracefully, it’s often the ones that generally aren’t intended to stand the test of time that provide the most surprise.
Of all the mature wines I’ve tasted over the years, few have stuck with me as much as the time my father opened up a bottle of Moët & Chandon Brut Imperial 1976, a wine from a vintage that was good if not great, and that was only aged for three decades because he had forgotten that he’d purchased it; the bottle languished in the back of his cellar through four presidents, the fall of Communism, the birth and then marriage of my sister, and more.
When he opened it up one night in 2006, it was majestic: Tropical and ripe and pulsed through with with the kind of unexpectedly aromatic earthiness that only perfectly mature Champagne offers in such abundance.
This year, the brand is celebrating the 150th anniversary of Moët Imperial–it’s no longer a vintage wine but instead a Brut NV–which makes this the perfect time to take a deeper look at Moët as part of my occasional series here that reconsiders the producers that, often as a consequence of their familiarity, are paradoxically easy to overlook in favor of newer or trendier producers. (The first piece focused on Ruffino; future ones are planned about other well-known producers, too.)
First, a caveat: I love and collect Champagne, and find it fascinating to explore the range of grower-producers that are increasingly, and justifiably, a force in the market. But I don’t like to drink them at the expense of the so-called grandes marques, the big brands that for many consumers are synonymous with Champagne. Names like Perrier-Jouët, Laurent-Perrier, Billecart-Salmon, Bollinger, Taittinger, and Moët & Chandon—among others—are some of the most widely recognized and broadly available, and I try to alternate between opening up their wines and the smaller producers that deserve more widespread consumer attention than they currently receive. I firmly believe that that any producer, no matter their scale, is worthy of consideration, so long as the product they craft is interesting, expressive, honest, and pleasurable.
The grandes marques, however, often provide a look into the history of the region that is unique, and uniquely far-reaching, especially given the long record of production that so many of them have.
Moët’s history, for example, can be traced all the way back to 1743, when Claude Moët founded the house. (Incredibly, the first bottles were shipped to the United States in 1787, a year before the US Constitution was ratified.) In the 276 years since its founding, the brand has acquired close to 3,000 acres of land which have been certified sustainable since 2014, and they supplement the fruit from those vineyard holdings with grapes from growers that they have contracts with throughout the region, in an effort to keep pace with the sheer volume they produce each year. Exact figures aren’t available, but it’s fair to say that Moët’s production reaches will into the millions of bottles per year, spread across three main lines, including Moët Imperial, Grand Vintage, and MCIII. Those wines are stored in more than 17 miles of contiguous chalk cellars beneath the ground in Epernay, aging until they’re ready to be disgorged, topped up, and shipped out to customers around the world. Currently, there are more than 100 million bottles resting there, with a value well into the billions of dollars.
The scale of production, as is the case with so many brands of Moët’s size and reach, means that they’re easy to overlook in favor of smaller, more boutique ones. But to do that is to miss out on an entire world of great Champagne, not just from Moët but from other houses, as well. What fascinates me, when it comes to larger brands like Moët, is their ability to produce a consistently appealing product at that kind of scale, which itself requires a level of technical proficiency that is remarkable.
The Moët Imperial is produced in quantities that are difficult to comprehend: Approximately 60% of the brand’s production is dedicated to this one flagship bottling. For less than $50 and available pretty much everywhere, I find it to be a charming Champagne, exuberant with aromas of apples and pears, stone fruit, and a bit of toastiness, all of which roll into a palate bright and mineral, with flavors of mashed apples and pears, lemon blossom, and citrus fruit, tapering to a finish that leans in a slightly more savory direction, making it exceptionally versatile at the table.
It’s a blend of 35 – 40% Pinot Noir, approximately 35% Pinot Meunier, and 25 – 30% Chardonnay. Up to 40% of the blend is composed of reserve wines, and the current release is based on 2015. Producing it is a herculean task, and as is the case with many of the flagship brut non-vintage Champagnes of the grandes marques, the requirement to keep it consistent year after year, regardless of the composition of the base and reserve wines, is a highly complicated undertaking. Chef de Cave Benoît Gouez has been working to lower the dosage of sugar, and he is now down to just 7 grams per liter, five grams less than the legally permitted 12 per liter for brut.
I’ve also become a huge fan over the years of their Grand Vintage Champagnes, which offer tremendous value in the world of vintage bubbly, a great opportunity to experience the so-called “snapshot of the vintage” that such wines provide, without spending the small fortune that is often required to do so. The two current releases are outstanding. The Brut 2012 ($74.99) is anchored by fabulously evocative fresh-baked brioche and a treble note of vivid citrus and quince. The Extra Brut Rosé 2012 ($84.99) is punctuated with wild strawberries, red cherries, rose petals, rooibos, and a hint of rhubarb, a bass-note of multigrain toast lending it even further depth. Even the 2009, at a decade of age, is remarkably fresh , though with very attractive bottle-age characteristics starting to emerge. It dances with Granny Smith apples, chamomile, mineral, and lemon, as well as honeyed toast, halvah, and flowers. It’s delicious.
Like many wine lovers, countless moments of my life have been punctuated by the popping of a Champagne cork, whether from a small grower-producer or a large house. And Moët & Chandon, despite its ubiquity—or, perhaps, because of it—deserves a deeper dive than it often receives. There’s a reason it has become a mainstay in my personal collection. I just hope theres’a bottle or two that I’ve accidentally misplaced in the cellar, and that I find in another few decades. You never know what kind of surprises will await beneath that cork.
