Le Dosage started with a bottle and a question: why does this taste like somewhere?
Champagne is the lens, but this newsletter is really about taste. How it develops, what it reveals, and where it leads. Expect bottles worth finding, honest assessments, and the occasional detour into the ideas and conversations that shape how I drink and think.
Curiosity and attention required. Expertise optional.
This first issue is going to a small group of friends as I experiment with the format. I would love to hear what you think.
A Bottle That Started It
The bottle that first pulled me into Champagne was the 1996 Fleuron from Champagne Pierre Gimonnet & Fils.
A friend, Judy, brought it to dinner and poured it without much ceremony. She was also the one who first taught me to slow down and taste with attention, the way sommeliers do. Structure, balance, and patience.
What I remember most is the precision. Lemon, chalk, something saline that sharpened with every sip. But there was also a note I did not expect, something like Japanese sweet potato. Not sugary, just warm and quietly earthy.
All of it carried on the spine of acid, structure, and balance that defines Blanc de Blancs from the Côte des Blancs.
It did not taste like the Champagne I thought I knew. It tasted like somewhere.
Since then, Champagne has held my attention.
Opening Thought
“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.”
— Simone Weil
The best things we taste reward attention in this way. They rarely shout. They unfold slowly, revealing structure, texture, and balance over time.
Champagne happens to be one of the clearest expressions of this.
On the Table
Recently I’ve been reading The MANIAC by Benjamín Labatut, a strange and fascinating book about mathematicians trying to understand systems too complex to fully grasp.
It made me think about curiosity. The moment when something unexpected appears and you want to understand why.
Wine often begins the same way.
Champagne Insight
One of the things that pulled me deeper into Champagne was discovering grower producers. Small domaines farming their own vineyards.
The result is often more personal, more transparent, and sometimes more surprising than the big houses.
It becomes a different way of understanding Champagne. Not just as a style, but as a landscape of villages, soils, and growers.
Once you start tasting this way, it changes how you experience wine more broadly.
One example of that grower approach is the bottle below.
Bottle of the Week
Pierre Moncuit — Delos Blanc de Blancs
Le Mesnil-sur-Oger
This is the kind of bottle that reminds me why Blanc de Blancs was my entry point into Champagne.
From Champagne Pierre Moncuit in Le Mesnil-sur-Oger, Delos captures the classic signature of the village: chalk, citrus, and a quiet tension that lingers long after the glass is gone.
It’s a restrained style of Champagne that rewards attention rather than volume. Exactly the kind of bottle that first sparked my curiosity about the region.
Where to find it
• K&L Wine Merchants — $60
• The Wine Stop — $55
At that level it remains one of the more approachable entry points into Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs from Le Mesnil.
A Small Dose
"I cannot cause light; the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam."
— Annie Dillard
Until the next bottle,
Manj
If you enjoy this, I also share short Champagne reels on Instagram:
@le_dosage