A delicate, thin skin, in constant need of attention, sensitive to extremes of climate: The Pinot Noir is the pampered princess of grape varieties.
Until recently, she only truly blossomed in the gentle cool climate of Burgundy and most especially on the Cote d'Or. Back in the 12th century, Cistercian and Benedictine monks quite literally ate dirt in an attempt to discover why she chose to confer her favors so liberally on such a slight ridge of land. They were attempting to classify the different cru (dividing the area into different plots of land, each of which gave the wine grown there its distinctive character) by tasting the soil.
"The cru is strictly defined in its pride of race and proper role: 'I am the pure stock,' it claims. 'The mere mention of my name makes eyes shine, lips moisten,' " wrote Colette, the famous Burgundian writer, proudly of Pinot Noir in the earlier 20th century. " 'I have names sweeter to the ear than words of love, sonorous as war cries.' "