Plaquemusephilia may well sounds like a rare dental condition which might be apt considering that Yapp Brothers was started by Robin Yapp, whose profession BW (before wine) was that of a dentist. But in fact, it is the name used for collecting Champagne cork capsules. I hadn’t realised that these were so collectable until my recent visit to see our Champagne producer, Gilles Dumangin, at his house in the picturesque village of Chigny-les-Roses, situated on the plains between Reims and Epernay. Most of the local houses seemed to have specially made wooden boards either hung up on the wall or placed on a coffee table to display their collections.

Historically, champagne bottles used to have a simple piece of wood wrapped in cloth and then sealed with wax as a stopper. This method, especially with the pressure build up in bottle during secondary fermentation, wasn’t ideal and resulted in many explosive incidents and much wasted wine. Then, along came Adolphe Jacquesson – a hugely creative person, who devised numerous methods to improve the processes connected with the making of champagne which, at that time, were still very much at the trial and error stage.

Jacquesson is credited with the idea of planting vines in rows in collaboration with Dr Guyot and for a process of measuring sugar density with the chemist Jean-Baptiste François, but his most famous patent (1844) was the muselet – a wire “muzzle” still used today to hold the corks of champagne and sparkling wine in place.  In these early days the capsule de muselets were just made out of plain discs of metal but, as things progressed, growers began imprinting their “house” mark for promotional purposes. Today, there are unlimited amounts of imprints and themes, from famous people to wildlife to astral constellations!   

The wooden boards are available (in France) in a variety or different shapes – a map of France, Champagne bottle, grape bunches etc – with indentations for 20, 30, 50 and more capsules. I went for the square wooden board with (no messing around here!) 150 slots – thus ensuring, of course, that I will have to keep drinking fine champagne or sparkling wine until I fill the board up. Currently, I have 21 to go but I’ve also included several blank coloured tops which aren’t particularly interesting so, as I gain more capsules, these will be relegated from the main board. Hmmm, unless, of course, I get another board……

At the beginning of  March I had the pleasure of hosting an evening dedicated to the wines of Domaine Jean-Louis Chave, an estate widely acknowledged as being at forefront of the Rhône valley’s wine making elite. I was at Le Café Anglais on the invitation of the chef-patron, Rowley Leigh, who is passionate about wine (and food) and had devised a sumptuous menu to accompany the wines. The evening presented a (very) rare opportunity to sample examples of the entire cannon of the Domaine’s wines including the horribly expensive ‘Cuvée Cathelin’ and fiendishly scarce ‘Vin de Paille’. Nineteen of us gathered in the private dining room (this representing just about the maximum who can comfortably taste from a single bottle) including restaurateurs, wine journalists, business folk and common or garden wine nuts.

This was to be a tasting of two halves. The first being an ‘academic’ overview of this legendary estate (de Père en Fils Depuis 1481, as proudly displayed on the neck label) featuring the white Hermitage 2005, the red Hermitage 2001, the Ermitage ‘Cuvée Cathelin’ 1998 and the sweet Vin de Paille 1990. The second phase was a more ‘hedonistic’ tasting (and let’s face it, drinking) of the Chaves wines with specially selected dishes.

Phase one passed off well. The white 2005 showed youthful promise with hints of honeysuckle on the nose and a concentrated palate of white stone fruit with hints of roasted nuts. The red 2001 is still an infant but I could happily drink it now. It has a wonderful core of dark, black, berry-fruit and attractive peppery notes. The Cuvée Cathelin is so far beyond the realms of my regular drinking that I find it hard to be objective about it. There is lots of power and concentration here and it tastes like a Vin Luxe. The Chaves insist that this isn’t a ‘special’ cuvée. That said, they’ve only ever made it in 6 vintages (1990, 1991, 1995, 1998, 2000 & 2003) and collectors certainly regard it as a trophy wine. It was first created to provide a vehicle for a distinctive red label that the late artist and Chave family friend, Bernard Cathelin, designed. I think it is an impressive wine and a fabulous expression of the Syrah grape but I just feel like it hasn’t been made for the likes of me. Perhaps it is the wine equivalent of a studio album made by a great live band. I can appreciate its quality, I just can’t relate to it in the same way that I can with the Chaves’ ‘regular’ Hermitage. Maybe in time I’ll acquire more of a taste for it – although who will fund that project remains a mystery.

In common with many great wines the Vin de Paille is understated. On first taste you wonder what all the fuss is about but every time you revisit it, it reveals another facet. It tasted more impressive two hours after opening than when we first broached it. I lack the descriptive powers to do this justice but Keats’s ‘lucent syrups tinct with cinnamon’ spring to mind.

With that hard work out of the way we then tucked into a memorably delicious meal. Scallops with sea kale were accompanied by a mineral-edged white Hermitage 1995 which proved a delightfully happy union. A gently-spiced hare pâté ‘en croute’ was served warm with the only non-Hermitage of the feast, the Chaves’ red Saint Joseph 2006. The cool, youthful, peppery wine was the perfect foil for the gamey meat – a sublime food and wine combination. I am certain that the ‘Lamb en Persillade’ that followed with a red Hermitage 1999 (that was just beginning to reveal its potential) was a grander dish but I had been so beguiled by the previous course I had yet to regain my critical faculties.

To round things off we tasted two mature vintages of red Hermitage with some perfectly à point Saint Marcellin. The 1985 was good but the 1988 was great. This was my wine of the night with evolved fruit and tannins that had softened nicely with age and I fancy some ‘beaded bubbles winking at the brim’  but by then I had drunk plenty and had fully succumbed to the charms of the hill of Hermitage!

Ronan Sayburn is a long established supporter and friend of Yapp Brothers. Now Head Sommelier at The Greenhouse, Mayfair, Ronan has developed an extensive expertise in wine and his years in the business means that his address book reads like a Who’s Who of the UK restaurant trade.

Every now and then Ronan likes to open up this book and invite friends and colleagues along to the Greenhouse on a Saturday morning for an informal tasting of a wine merchant’s or producer’s wares. As well as providing an opportunity to assess some wines, these gatherings afford a chance for Sommeliers to catch up and kick back with friends and colleagues in a relaxed ‘non-working’ environment.

We had the pleasure in co-hosting one of these events in March with a selection of 20 or so wines. The list included a range of portfolio regulars such as Jean-Teiller’s Menetou Salon Blanc 2007 and Alain Graillot’s Crozes Hermitage 2006, as well as some archive wines from Yapp’s private cellars. We were privileged to taste Jean-Louis Chave’s 2001 and 2006 Hermitage Blanc as well as his 1998, 2001 and 2006 Hermitage Rouge.  There is nothing better than being afforded the (all too rare) occasion to be able to compare a flight of vintages of this extraordinary wine at the same time. Both the red and white 2006 were amazingly open and expressive for their age and could certainly be enjoyed now. At the same time you could tell that they are going to develop into classic vintages. The 1988 red was a reminder of how elegant and complex this wine can be over time and the 2001 white was really beginning to open up again having spent a couple of years slightly closed as it has developed.