Domaine de la Madone, Beaujolais-Villages, 'Le Perréon'

There’s a line from our friends at North Berkeley Imports that makes a lot of sense if you try this wine: “When does cellar-aged Beaujolais take on the noble character of a bottle of Vosne-Romanée? When it’s crafted by our partners at Domaine de la Madone.” That’s not marketing fluff — that’s a seasoned Burgundy specialist planting a flag exactly where it belongs. They discovered this family estate more than twenty years ago and knew immediately they had struck gold. After tasting the 2023 Domaine de la Madone Beaujolais-Villages ‘Le Perréon,’ you understand why. The best wines from this region age like good red Burgundy — and technically, they are Burgundy — quietly and confidently developing nuance, savory complexity, and aromatic detail over time.

At $20, the value borders on irrational. Buy it by the case. Drink some now. Lay some down. And let time prove what exile accidentally perfected.

To understand this bottle, you have to understand Beaujolais.

The region stretches between Beaune and Lyon like a forgotten middle chapter of Burgundy’s story. Technically and politically, much of it belongs to Burgundy. But culturally and spiritually, it answers to granite, sun, steep slopes, and a fiercely independent community of humble vine growers who have farmed these hills for generations.

Gamay is the grape here — thin-skinned, early ripening, naturally high in acidity, and luminous ruby in the glass. Genetically, it is a natural crossing of Pinot Noir and Gouais Blanc. From Pinot Noir, it inherits aromatic lift and site transparency. From Gouais Blanc, it gains vigor and resilience. In fertile soils, it can be simple and fruity. In poor granite at elevation, it becomes structured, mineral, and capable of aging with real grace.

Its presence here is no accident. In 1395, Philippe the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, ordered Gamay uprooted from the Côte d’Or. The Dukes were building prestige around Pinot Noir grown on limestone — lower yielding, more temperamental, more refined. Gamay, productive and hardy, was discouraged in Burgundy’s prized limestone slopes.

What might have been suppression became specialization.

On the fractured pink granite slopes just south, in Beaujolais, Gamay found its true home. The granite soils and steeper elevations naturally restrained the vine’s vigor and revealed its mineral spine.

As you move north through the region, the hierarchy sharpens: Beaujolais, Beaujolais-Villages, and then the ten crus — Brouilly, Côte de Brouilly, Régnié, Chiroubles, Fleurie, Moulin-à-Vent, Morgon, Juliénas, Chénas, and Saint-Amour. Moulin-à-Vent builds structure and longevity. Fleurie leans floral and lifted. Morgon carries iron and depth. The best of them age like good red Burgundy — and technically, they are Burgundy — quietly and confidently evolving over time.

Le Perréon sits just west of those crus, climbing higher into the hills. The granite here mirrors that of Morgon and Fleurie, but the elevation brings finer tension and less overt juiciness. The wines are less about exuberant fruit and more about line and mineral backbone. In silhouette and feel, they often lean closer to classic Pinot Noir than to the easygoing stereotype of Beaujolais.

This is where Domaine de la Madone farms.

The Bererd family works steep, high-altitude parcels planted to 75–100-year-old vines. Naturally low yields. Deep roots in fractured granite. Careful, traditional farming. The objective isn’t fruit-bomb Gamay. It’s structure, minerality, and longevity. In both intent and quality, this aligns squarely with serious Cru Beaujolais — even if the label reads Villages.

In the glass, the 2023 shows a luminous ruby core fading to transparency at the rim. Aromas of crushed raspberry, tart cherry, rose petal, and warm granite rise first, followed by a subtle iron thread and savory edge. On the palate, it’s energetic and precise, driven by bright natural acidity and framed by silky yet persistent tannins. The mid-palate tightens. The finish turns dry and stony. There’s real architecture here — tension and mineral lift that feel far closer to serious Burgundy than to casual Beaujolais. You will see.

This is the kind of Beaujolais meant for the food of its homeland.

Think Coq au Vin made with Gamay instead of Pinot, the chicken braised slowly with lardons, pearl onions, and mushrooms until the sauce turns glossy and savory. Or Saucisson chaud de Lyon, gently poached sausage served with warm lentils dressed in Dijon and shallots. A simple jambon persillé — parsley-studded ham set in aspic — sliced thick and eaten with crusty bread. Even a rustic potée beaujolaise, a slow-cooked stew of pork shoulder, cabbage, carrots, and potatoes, where the wine’s acidity cuts through richness and lifts the dish. Serve cool, about 55-60F in large Burgundy stems, and enjoy!