Cognac_directory_FINAL

is imparted to the cognac. Indeed, the secret of the dry
Martell style, originally destined for the British market, was
that the cognac itself and the oak in which it was aged were
both directed towards a target which is ascetic in theory, but
in practice, fills the mouth with a balanced fullness.
The same considerations apply to the age of the casks.
In theory, most firms keep their cognacs in new wood
for up to a year to provide an initial ‘attack’ of tannin
before transferring it to older casks to prevent them from
becoming too woody. Like many distillers Yann Fillioux is
wary of overly long contact with new oak, for him nine
months is the maximum time, otherwise ‘the cognacs are
marked for life’. If the brandy is to be kept for fifty years
or more it has to be kept in old oak from the start; this
is the secret of Rémy’s Louis XIII, the world’s best-selling
truly aged cognac. But, cask-wise, old age starts young,
‘new’ generally means a cask less than three years old and
‘once it’s twenty years old’ says Yann Fillioux ‘it is above all
a neutral container.’
Some firms vary their use of new oak depending on the
source of the grapes. Hine, for instance, uses old wood for
Grande Champagne and new for Fins Bois to provide a shot
of tannin. None of Delamain’s cognacs, all of which come
from the Grande Champagne, have ever touched any new
wood, for the cognacs it buys have been lodged in wood
which is at least seven years old and they keep the casks
for at least sixty years. At the other extreme the equally
reputable house of Frapin keeps its best cognacs in new oak
for up to two and a half years, depending on the amount
of colour (and hence, by inference, tannin) the spirit has
absorbed. Both are exceptions: Delamain is seeking a light,
almost ethereal style, while all Frapin’s brandies come from a
particularly favoured corner of the Grande Champagne, so
they have enough basic strength to be capable of absorbing
the tannins and other chemicals found in new wood.
All the houses are aiming at a standard product from
grapes that inevitably vary every year. If the year has been
especially wet or the grapes are unusually ripe, the cognacs
could be flabby, so Rémy Martin, for instance, stiffens their
backbone with a longer stay in new wood. In very dry years
the opposite applies. Some firms use old oak for Champagne
cognacs and new wood for a third of those from the Bois.
There is a regular routine as the brandies are gradually
transferred to older and older casks. But the pace varies
for, as Alain Braastad of Delamain says, ‘Every cask has its
own personality because of the very different qualities of the
wood in which it is lodged.’ All the blenders agree with him
that while the brandy is above 40 per cent, the wood still
contributes something to the final result.
So, of course, do the chais in which the brandies are
housed. These are a cross between a commercial warehouse
and, in the case of the fabled paradis housing the oldest
cognacs, a living museum. Originally they were located on
the banks of the Charente, so that the casks could be loaded
on to the gabares. This was another lucky accident. Initially
the Cognacais probably did not grasp the contribution made
by the dampness of the riverside atmosphere to the quality of
the cognac by reducing the strength rather than reducing the
aromatic content. The maturing brandies must not be subject
to draughts, while the newer chais away from the river are often
air-conditioned to provide the right degree of humidity.
Today the north bank of the Charente in Cognac,
and both banks at Jarnac, are still lined with handsome
stone warehouses, inevitably blackened by generations of