Confusion Corner: Côte des Bar, Côtes de Barr, Clos de la Barre

In the world of French wine, there are several different places that go by the name Bar (or Barr or Barre).  They sound similar, they look alike (almost) on a wine label, but they are not at all the same. At least two are officially-designated appellations of origin; some are descriptive terms—well-accepted and widely used, but not granted any type of protected status under the law. Let’s take a look at three of these, spread out over Champagne, Burgundy, and Alsace—and collectively representing the three of the iconic styles of wine: red, white, and sparkling.  Let’s dig a bit deeper in the Côte des Bar in Champagne, the Côtes de Barr in Alsace, and the Clos de la Barre in Volnay. Do you know which is which?

Alsace–Côtes de Barr AOC: The Côtes de Barr is one of the 13 official sub-appellations—dénominations géographiques complémentaires—of the Alsace AOC. Some of the Alsace sub-appellations are fairly well known—serious students of wine will no doubt recognize Klevener de Heiligenstein, Ottrott, and Saint-Hippolyte—however, the Côtes de Barr remains somewhat obscure.

Located just south of the town of Heiligenstein and covering the entirety of the commune of Barr in the Bas-Rhin, the Côtes de Barr is sub-appellation is approved for white wines based on the Sylvaner grape variety only. Domaine Leipp-Leininger is a leading producer. Barr—despite its small population of 7,000—is considered one of the leading wine towns of the Bas-Rhin and is worth a tourist stop for its centuries-old half-timber houses, the Place de l’Hôtel de Ville (town square), Musée de la Folie Marco (museum housed in a 17th-century Alsatian villa), and the Chapel of Saint Martin.

In an eternal nod to the confusion of Confusion Corner, the commune of Barr is also home to the Alsace Grand Cru Kirchberg de Barr AOC. Named for the steep-sided slopes leading up to the Chapel of Saint Martin (the name Kirchberg is derived from hill of the church), the vineyards are largely planted to Gewurztraminer; although Riesling, Muscat, Pinot Gris, and Pinot Noir are represented as well. True wine nerds will recognize Kirchberg de Barr as one of the two Alsace Grands Crus recently approved for the production of Pinot Noir (red wine) under the Grand Cru label.

Map of the Côte des Bar via the Union des Maisons de Champagne

The Côte des Bar: While not an official sub-region, the Côte des Bar is one of the five informally grouped districts of Champagne and it is described on the appellation’s cahier des charges. This area—often referred to as the Aube, based on the area’s political department—is located well to the south of the other, more centralized vineyard areas of Champagne.

The Côte des Bar is named for two towns which are, in turn, named after the two main rivers—the Aube and the Seine—that run through the area. Bar-sur-Aube is located on the eastern side of the area, while Bar-sur-Seine is situated on the west. In the case of both of these towns, the name Bar is derived from an old Gallic term meaning summit or height.

The area is known for its band of Kimmeridgian soil (also seen in Chablis) as well as some outcroppings of Portlandian limestone. While all seven of the grapes of Champagne are grown in the Côte des Bar, a great majority—as much as 86% of the total vineyard acreage—is planted to Pinot Noir.

Volnay Clos de la Barre Premier Cru AOC: Clos de la Barre—barre being an Old French term meaning fence—is one of 29 designated Premier Cru vineyards located within the Volnay AOC. The Volnay AOC—including all 29 Premiers Crus—is only approved for red wine. The Clos de la Barre Premier Cru is a tiny appellation—totaling about 1.3 hectares/3.5 acres—situated just to the east of the village of Volnay. The vineyard is owned by one family and planted exclusively to Pinot Noir. These days, all the grapes are sold to Maison Louis Jadot, making them the sole producer of Volnay Clos de la Barre Premier Cru wines.

Note: for this article, I’ve only included mentions of the place-name Bar (or Barr or Barre) that are listed on an appellation’s Cahier des Charges. If there are more to be found, let us know!

References/for more information:

The Bubbly Professor is “Miss Jane” Nickles of San Marcos, Texas… missjane@prodigy.net

The Bubbly Professor on Tim Gaiser’s Message in the Bottle

Photo of Tim Gaiser, MS by Kelly McCarthy

I recently read a book on wine tasting. As a sworn wine afficionado, it’s probably the 100th wine book I’ve read. However, this one—Message in the Bottle: A Guide to Tasting Wine by Tim Gaiser, MS—was special.

First of all, I’ve known Tim for about 20 years and have—on many occasions—had the pleasure of being in the audience as he gave a presentation on the intricacies of wine tasting. Tim has contributed much to subject of tasting and has given the crowded field of wine expertise a truly original perspective. Tim Gaiser is—in my humble opinion—one of the best wine educators in the world.

I am not in any way qualified to review books. I don’t know anything about writing styles, theme development, or the needs of the target audience. However, I can tell you that I learned a lot from this book, and that the book simplified some concepts—such as the subjective vs. the objective in wine tasting—that truly needed simplifying. (Before you think that means that this is an easy book, please note that simplifying something is extremely difficult. In the words of Steve Jobs, “Simple can be harder than complex: You have to work hard to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.”)

Before I go too far down that rabbit hole, here are a few things I learned from Tim Gaiser’s book:

We may never solve for the objective vs. the subjective in wine tasting, but Tim’s book has a notable take on the matter: Some things are objective and measurable (sediment, clarity, alcohol by volume); some things are subjective (aromatic intensity, flavors, balance)—and never the twain shall meet. However, Tim points out that even truly subjective concepts can be described and discussed by defining the extremes (nothing vs a large amount) and working from there. For instance, bitterness in wine can be non-existent (like a bowl of vanilla pudding), or extreme (like a double shot of espresso). Describing a specific wine as somewhere on that continuum is a way of combining the objective with the subjective (and might just limit the number of fist-fights to break out at tonight’s Valpolicella tasting).

There’s a tech sheet manifesto: I use wine tech sheets all the time and suggest their use to all of my students. Beginners will often ask what a tech sheet is, and I stumble all over an explanation which turns out to be something like “winemaker’s notes that may or may not tell you what you want to know.” While this sad fact is unlikely to change anytime soon, Tim’s book contains a meticulous wish list of what a tech sheet would, could, and should be. It includes basics such as grape variety, sweetness, pH, and level of alcohol (which are all-too-often missing) and well as more telling factoids such as vineyard elevation, ripeness levels at harvest, and cases produced. It’s a well-thought-out checklist, and if I thought it would work, I’d start a Change(dot)org petition to bring Tim’s Tech Sheet Manifesto to life.

Using associative rehearsal, you can improve your tasting skills without wine: Using a form of active recall to describe a specific type or style of wine (without the wine in front of you) is a great study technique; it’s been around a while and many wine educators refer to this practice as writing a dry tasting note. Tim has several meaty pages of advice for associative rehearsal/dry tasting notes, which—if followed—promise to help the student connect with and cement their knowledge of specific wines from tastings past. If you—like most wine students—have amassed a mountain of tasting notes and have a hard time remembering which wine is which, this advice is for you.

Impact compounds impact more than a wine’s aroma: I appreciate the concept of impact compounds, and love to wax poetic about the rosy notes of terpenes, the black pepperiness derived of rotundone, and the simple explanation as to why your wine may smell of gasoline (TDN).  Tim’s book explains the origin of impact compounds—which might be grape chemistry, the vineyard itself,  winemaking magic, or who knows what else. More importantly, what I gained from this section is the knowledge that these tricky little chemical groupings can be a key tool in detecting and recognizing specific varietals or regions-of-origin. In other words, if you want to develop your wine recognition/blind tasting skills, impact compounds are your new best friends.

I recommend this book to anyone who is interested in refining their wine tasting skills or exploring the philosophy of wine. There’s a lot here for advanced tasters, but plenty of space is dedicated developing the beginner’s palate as well.

Message in the Bottle: A Guide to Tasting Wine by Tim Gaiser, MS (Newworlding Publishing, 2022) is available on Amazon.com. You can contact Tim via his well-read blog at timgaiser.com.

The Bubbly Professor is “Miss Jane” Nickles of Austin, Texas… missjane@prodigy.net