Champagne part III – la fête de Saint Vincent
Tuesday was Festival of Saint Vincent, well observed in French wine regions since Saint Vincent is the patron saint of “vine growers”. Incidentally, there could be some insight into the French concept of terroir if you consider that there is no word for “wine maker” in French. The word vigneron means vine grower.
We decided to pass the festival at Le Mesnil sur Oger, especially since Ian is an inducted chavalier.
Ian proudly wearing his medal signifying his membership of the confrerie
The day began early and the pious might have believed that Saint Vincent turned on a great day for us:
The chavaliers in official garb
Despite being a tiny town, there was no shortage of officials at hand to bask in the sunshine of the day
The local child are dressed up by their parents as vineyard workers from a time passed
The statue of Saint Vincent itself
The official business of the day — and there is a sense of the formal and procedural about it — begins with Catholic mass.
The eglise of Le Mesnil
I haven’t been to Catholic mass for 15 years but the fête was enough to break the drought — especially when the first 15 minutes were given over to a 2007 vintage report. Being France, the theme continued, the sermon focusing on issues of terroir. The communion wine was — I kid not — 2007 vin clair. The bread, local brioche. The whole extraordinary thing was concluded by a dixie jazz band. La France!!
After this is was two and a half hours of near in terminable speeches, typical for French official occasions. Luckily, there was Champagne on hand.
A break in the speeches, held at the local pressoir.
Once the speeches were finished, it was time for a long meal at the salle de fête near by:
The jazz band again lead the way
The meal was long, with a near infinite supply of Champagne. Some representatives from Calvados and Burgundy meant that there was plenty of the local drink from those parts too. ‘Lunch’ finished around 6:30PM and it was straight to bed for most of us — especially myself, suffering an unfortunate case of food poisoning.
It’s not all religious fervour (it’s France remember) and speeches. Some locals are extremely cynical about Saint Vincent celebrations. One grower told me he skipped the celebrations out of frustration at seeing rich land owners turn up in their Mercs, direct from Paris and talking about the difficulties one saw in the vines at the last vintage. Another found the whole thing simple minded, saying he had a plot to steel the local Saint Vincent statue and photograph it in exotic locations — as happens in the famous film Le Fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain. In this way, France is like Australia: tradition and officialdom are undercut by the younger generation. Going by the attitude of the new generation in Champagne, the festival of Saint Vincent may be on the way out.
