in gratitude, love, and naivety: The Wasserman Anniversaries

There are many things I thought I knew about wine… and then I traveled to Burgundy with the sommelier. I’ve always known that I lacked a certain knowledge surrounding soils, vines, and wine production, but never quite knew the extent to which that lack would take me.

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The French countryside is quaint, quiet in it’s camaraderie and community. The winegrowers go back generations, and those even as young as 24 are now being touted as the new face of the region. Thirty five years ago, Becky Wasserman, a working mother, realized the potential of these farmers, and negotiated their import into the US and other countries. She was not only a pioneering woman in Burgundy, but a trailblazer in business throughout the world.

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This past weekend, I was lucky enough to be invited in a once-of-a-lifetime event, the celebration of The Wassermans, their company Le Serbet, and the winegrowers they have represented throughout the years. A traditional Burgundian celebration, we gathered at a country chateau, and were catered to as a sign of thanks.

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After drinking Champagnes on the veranda, left to mingle with Burgundian celebrities, of which I admit I knew nothing about… we headed into a white tent with tables set like royalty. The menu consisted of en croutes, foie gras salad, melon and farm fresh peas; jambon, bress chicken, and various fromage and sweets enveloped the meal.

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The table wine was magnificent, and that was just the beginning.

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Winemakers began touring the tables, pouring their hard work for all of the region’s finest. I knew this was a magnificent event when the sommelier’s eyes popped open, and his jaw dropped wide. This was no normal day.

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While I can’t tell you how impressive the list of winemakers were at this monumentous event, I can give you a sense of the community in which these farmers operate. Tradition trumps nouveau. The earth is the mother of all the things. Soils, water, and air being about the list amazing smells and tastes you could ever imagine. And they support each other. And love their trade. This is wine at its finest.

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(Pictured: Becky Wasserman & Co. Represented Winegrowers)

I can never imagine experiencing something like this again, and am grateful to the sommelier and The Wassermans for including me in this invite-only celebration. I am now more aware than ever that there is so much more to learn and respect in the traditions and trade.

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Sante.

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This post is linked to Kristin Oliphant’s Not So Small Stories.

baguettes, terrine, and turrets: exploring the city of Beaune.

Waking up early, we carefully stepped through the cobblestone streets to the Saturday market in Beaune. The city itself still contains remnants of the original medieval walls that contained it’s residents, with towers overlooking the historic center.

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As we made our way to the square, various specialty stores began to emerge: chocolatiers, boulangeries, lingeries, and caves du vin. Through glass windows we could see the delicate layers of sugar, chantilly, and icings that have made France so famous for their desserts.

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My mouth already started to water with anticipation of our market findings. As we turned through small adjoining streets, the hum of the townspeople began to grow louder. Tables of duck, pork and beef sausages lined the sidewalks; hard cheeses in red wax and rinds graced stands; bress chickens warmed in rotisseries; and citizens queued to buy produce directly from farmers.

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We gorged our souvenir dollars on Dijon mustards and honey, then bought a baguette, some Bourgogne terrine, and walked to the city park.

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Feasting on fresh sandwiches and the sweetest strawberries ever tasted, we looked on at vineyards, listened to quacking ducks, and enjoyed the peaceful silence of the country.

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Strolling back to the center of the city after the closing of the market, a few Flemish inspired homes appeared on a hidden rue de village. Unique in turrets and bright roofs, these gems brightened the country cream stones that made up local architecture.

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In the center of town, lies Hotel-Dieu, an early hospice, the epitomizing reflection of this bright roofed trend. It was built in 1443 by the Duke of Burgundy, and is the city’s largest historical attraction… besides wine, of course.

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As the afternoon began to fade away, the sommelier and I met with up and coming local wine makers, tasted Champagne, Bourgogne, Saumer Blanc, and so many others that I lost track quickly. I began to realize that I know absolutely nothing about wine… except what I like to drink…. but I will save that for another post.

Sante.