Do we love this stuff.
There were ten of us on the backporch last night for a Bastille Day dinner party, and we had some good things to drink. We started off with a longtime favorite of ours, an under-the-radar small time sparkler from the somewhat obscure region of Bugey, which lies roughly between Lyon and Geneva. Not much of the wine from this part of the world leaves the neighborhood, but for some years now we've been head-over-heels for this playfully effervescent, delightfully fruity, off-dry strawberry-pink fizz with a scant seven and a half degrees of alcohol. Bugey-Cerdon is VDQS (not A.O.C.) - level stuff, which means it's not very serious as wines go. But as a warm weather sip guaranteed to spread smiles wherever it appears, it's positively grand cru. You can find it here and there (reliably at Federal Wine & Spirits downtown and at the Wine & Cheese Cask in Somerville) for under $20.
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I love it, too! I discovered it in Paris, at a bistro called L'Ardoise, where I was eating by myself beside a large party of Parisians. They seemed extremely interesting and were clearly friends with the chef. They feasted for hours on many courses, but they began their meal with glasses of Bugey. I know what it was because I asked the waitress -- it was nearly salmon-pink and looked so beautiful I had to have some. Then, when I returned to Boston, I was thrilled to find it at the Wine & Cheese Cask. I often drink it, and give bottles to people for festive occasions. Steve, when I first mentioned the sparkler to you, you kind of lit up and told me a fantastic story about serving some to Julia Child once. Do you remember it?
I do indeed, Devra. It was at least a dozen years ago -- just before I started writing for the Globe. We were invited to Julia's house on Irving St. for a sort of garden party for a well-known UK food personality. Her husband was reported to be a hard-core oenophile who would be bringing some very serious wines. It was a hot night; we stashed a couple bottles of vin de Bugey (it was a $10 wine then) and some ice packs into a cooler and headed off.
When we arrived, Julia was sitting in her little pergola sipping something the British guy had brought when she saw us dipping our beaks into this frothy pink stuff. "I'd like some of that," she said in that inimitable squeak, simultaneously emptying the contents of her glass into a potted plant. I think the three of us finished off those two bottles all by ourselves. It was a memorable night -- and we think of it every time we pull a cork on a bottle of Bugey.
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