Jacques Puffeney

Cuvée Les Berangères Arbois Trousseau

9.235 ratings
9.27 pro ratings
Arbois, Jura, France
Trousseau
Top Notes For
Matt Perlman

Sadly the last commercial vintage from the “pope of Arbois.” (I guess “Puff Daddy” was already taken). Excited to try some of the newer releases from Domaine du Pelican who acquired a lot of Puffeney’s holdings. As for this wine, it’s exceptionally beautiful and I’m just going to enjoy it rather than pick it apart. Elegant, vivacious, soulful, just really captivating and only gaining in intensity with time in the glass.

Sadly the last commercial vintage from the “pope of Arbois.” (I guess “Puff Daddy” was already taken). Excited to try some of the newer releases from Domaine du Pelican who acquired a lot of Puffeney’s holdings. As for this wine, it’s exceptionally beautiful and I’m just going to enjoy it rather than pick it apart. Elegant, vivacious, soulful, just really captivating and only gaining in intensity with time in the glass.

May 3rd, 2020
Al Shikoh

Jura Wine Tasting: very pale garnet with amber rim; tea, earth, cherry skins, cedar, florals, whiff of Brett; light bodied, 13% ABV, bit of tannic grip on the finish; $50 retail

Jura Wine Tasting: very pale garnet with amber rim; tea, earth, cherry skins, cedar, florals, whiff of Brett; light bodied, 13% ABV, bit of tannic grip on the finish; $50 retail

Nov 21st, 2018
Sylvia Bednarz

A NIGHT part 2 😁

A NIGHT part 2 😁

Aug 24th, 2018
John McCarroll

Sales Rowan Imports

9.3

Clean, confident, v solid and pretty.

Clean, confident, v solid and pretty.

Mar 2nd, 2017
Lyle Fass

Founder Fass Selections

9.1

Very pretty red fruits, funk and earth. Palate is very pretty and elegant. Good concentration, balance and freshness. Very pure. Needs air to flesh out. Very juicy.

Very pretty red fruits, funk and earth. Palate is very pretty and elegant. Good concentration, balance and freshness. Very pure. Needs air to flesh out. Very juicy.

Jul 18th, 2016
Tom DeLorme

As good as any Puffeney Trousseau that I can remember...

As good as any Puffeney Trousseau that I can remember...

Jun 3rd, 2016
Wine ATL

Tart red fruits preserves. Floral, resinous, stemmy. Weightless. No noticeable wood. Chalky, gentle tannin.

Tart red fruits preserves. Floral, resinous, stemmy. Weightless. No noticeable wood. Chalky, gentle tannin.

Oct 12th, 2018
Al Doyle

Delicate, intricate, wondrous. Sad he’s gone.

Delicate, intricate, wondrous. Sad he’s gone.

Jun 12th, 2018
Stephen Osgood

Super pure!

Super pure!

Apr 30th, 2018
Lindsey King

How do I even begin to comment on the privilege of lapping up the last drops of a life's work? Puffeney's 52nd vintage, his final potion. The wine that made me aware of the Jura, that first sparked sensation of time and place, a wine that exists equally in bottle as it does in brain. When you find yourself paused mid-step on the walk home, paralyzed by the distant sound of a youthful pianist stretching their hands across blessed white and black keys. Recognizing the tension that folds over their shoulders in tandem with the all encompassing lightness of body that accompanies practice. There is something so real about the way they are playing, without too much fluidity, they stop and start again and somehow that's better than an unstopping song. There is no performance here. What is it about the walls, windows and air between you that deliver these wafts of sound in such a pleasurable way? How does the space aid the aesthetic? You keep standing there, basking in this auditory coat, and for a sliver of time you want nothing. You want no one. You have everything. This pianist will never meet you, nor you them, yet there is partnership, a unity, an offer and reception. An electrical circuit you have both worked to complete. You want to cling tightly to this moment and you find yourself searching for evidence to make you present. The sky was blue, the pavement was wet, I was just about there, I was happy. But all of this is already phrased in the past tense, the moment has already slid away from you. You pick up your forgotten step and continue forward, dizzy from experience, left with only a stamp in your mind that you can picture but never fully revisit. Little death.

How do I even begin to comment on the privilege of lapping up the last drops of a life's work? Puffeney's 52nd vintage, his final potion. The wine that made me aware of the Jura, that first sparked sensation of time and place, a wine that exists equally in bottle as it does in brain. When you find yourself paused mid-step on the walk home, paralyzed by the distant sound of a youthful pianist stretching their hands across blessed white and black keys. Recognizing the tension that folds over their shoulders in tandem with the all encompassing lightness of body that accompanies practice. There is something so real about the way they are playing, without too much fluidity, they stop and start again and somehow that's better than an unstopping song. There is no performance here. What is it about the walls, windows and air between you that deliver these wafts of sound in such a pleasurable way? How does the space aid the aesthetic? You keep standing there, basking in this auditory coat, and for a sliver of time you want nothing. You want no one. You have everything. This pianist will never meet you, nor you them, yet there is partnership, a unity, an offer and reception. An electrical circuit you have both worked to complete. You want to cling tightly to this moment and you find yourself searching for evidence to make you present. The sky was blue, the pavement was wet, I was just about there, I was happy. But all of this is already phrased in the past tense, the moment has already slid away from you. You pick up your forgotten step and continue forward, dizzy from experience, left with only a stamp in your mind that you can picture but never fully revisit. Little death.

Dec 17th, 2017