Michel Couvreur: A Belgian making whisky in France

A Belgian making Scottish whisky in France. It sounds like a riddle, or a very bad joke, but there is a story behind it.

In recent years, the whiskies of Michel Couvreur have captured the attention of malt fans. It was not always that way. The first time I heard of Michel Couvreur was during a conversation with a young French sommelier at the fabled Mugaritz restaurant in Spain, some fifteen or twenty years ago.

I’d been keen to get there Mugaritz, not Couvreur for a while, and it lived up to everything I’d heard. We enjoyed a brilliant meal, though plenty of amazing Spanish restaurants can provide that. Mugaritz was incredibly innovative, but where it really soared was in matching food and wine.

Or, more accurately, food and beverages: the pairings went well beyond wine to include spirits, tea and even water. The last I heard, our young hero was working at a small seafood establishment on Spain’s Atlantic coast, which had, no surprise here, become a cult destination. Sadly, both his name and that of the restaurant escape me.

At this point, you might assume that one of the Couvreur whiskies was paired with a dish. That would be too easy. At the end of the evening, the sommelier and I were chatting, with a fascinating discussion of what to match with cigars very much to the fore. He mentioned the whiskies of Michel Couvreur, a producer unknown to me.

I’ll admit I was rather sceptical when he described Scottish whiskies being matured in France, but he assured me they were emerging stars. Our sommelier was from Burgundy, where Couvreur was based. He gave me the name of the village and suggested I try to arrange a visit. How hard could it be to track down a whisky producer in a small French village?

As it happened, after Spain I was heading to France, specifically Champagne and Burgundy, to catch up with a friend and visit some wineries. Surely, some things are meant to be. We decided to give Michel Couvreur a crack. Seriously, the village seemed about the size of two or three football fields. How hard could it be to find the place?

We drove all over it. We asked people. Blank looks. Eventually, we gave up. That evening, we rang and were assured that, yes, they were in the village and would be delighted to see us. Very kind of them. We even had an address. During a break between winery visits the following day, back we went. Suffice to say, we had no more success than the day before. Around and around, we drove. Not even the address helped. Back to the phones.

This time, we got a description of the place, although almost the entire village seemed to consist of stone buildings covered in ivy. Finally, we found it. And what a thoroughly enjoyable and interesting visit it was. But first, a little background.

Born in Belgium, Michel worked in the wine industry, which took him to Burgundy in the 1950s. His work involved travelling around Europe, and Scotland quickly became a favourite destination. A keen fisherman and hunter, he enjoyed the opportunities it offered for both. So much so that, in 1964, he moved there. Michel developed a preference for great malts aged in sherry casks, especially those that had held Pedro Ximénez, or PX. He became concerned that changes in the industry were putting the use of these treasured casks at risk. Yes, cue the shock and horror.

In the late 1970s, Michel turned his attention to a whisky operation in the wonderfully named Burgundian village of Bouze-lès-Beaune, sourcing whisky from Scotland and casks from further afield. Behind those stone, ivy-draped walls, the place is a bit of a spirits TARDIS: bigger on the inside and certainly full of surprises.

Tunnels once used to cellar wine are filled with casks of maturing whisky, while natural springs contribute to the humidity. From outside, there is not the slightest hint of any of it. Alongside the sherry casks were wine casks, some more than a century old. Burgundy also offered a useful position between Scotland, the source of his whisky, and Jerez, the source of his sherry casks.

Sadly, Michel died in 2013.

On our visit, Michel’s son-in-law, Cyrille Deschamps, showed us around. We explored the humid tunnels - as a Queenslander, I felt quite at home, before settling in for a brilliant tasting of the various malts. Jean-Arnaud Frantzen, who trained under Michel, is the cellar master.

The operation sources whisky from Scotland for maturation, blending and bottling in France, and also works with malts distilled in France. Its cask selection extends to the Jura and Loire, as well as old colheita port pipes from Graham’s.

As we neared the end of our visit, Michel himself appeared. On hearing that he had a couple of Aussies in the house, he had dug out some old accounts and ledgers recording whisky purchases and sales. These massive volumes looked more Dickensian than twenty-first century.

Michel thought we might be interested in one of his best customers, although he had not heard from the gentleman for a few years. The records revealed annual shipments to an Australian who purchased serious quantities of whisky. What fascinated us was the delivery address: care of Cooktown Post Office. Michel had never been able to learn much more about his customer. Just the annual order.

Most Aussies will have heard of Cooktown, but I doubt many have visited (I am guilty of that). Located in north Queensland, in tropical rainforest country, this is one of those places where you do not swim in the creeks unless you wish to feed the local crocs.

Around 140 years ago, Cooktown had a population of almost 100,000 people and 90 pubs at which the locals could drink. It was a frontier gold-mining town. The closest capital city is, of course, Brisbane, which is also in Queensland, but Darwin is only a few kilometres further away.

For non-Aussies, think around twice the distance from London to Madrid and considerably further than from London to Moscow. When the gold ran out, the population crashed to around 7,000 and half the pubs closed. Soon afterwards, the population fell below 3,000 and has remained around 2,000 to 3,000 ever since. There are only two or three pubs left.

How on earth a local had discovered Michel’s whiskies all those years ago was anyone’s guess. Michel himself had no idea. We speculated that perhaps the customer owned a large cattle property and came into Cooktown only once a year to collect the mail and other essentials. Could it have been a hermit living on a Great Barrier Reef island who made an annual trip to the mainland? Perhaps a local pub placed regular orders, although it was hard to imagine these whiskies being served across a Cooktown bar in such quantities. Or perhaps it was a couple living on a yacht, travelling the world and dropping by once a year to collect supplies. We could only speculate. I would have loved to know.

These days, the whiskies are much easier to find. You don’t have to go to Cooktown, though we’d never discourage a visit. The range is extensive.

Here are a few stars from a tasting a little while ago, though you’ll no doubt find others that appeal. Enjoy the search.

The Unique – 44% ABV

Maturation began in Scotland for this whisky which is a mix of malted and unmalted. After four years, it was reduced with Pentland Hills water. Maturation was completed in France, in small Sherry casks. Look for notes of peaches, brine and sea breezes, nuts, orange blossoms and a very gentle smokiness, with the florals moving to the fore. Plenty of length here.

L’oubli - 43.3% ABV

A single malt from 2009, which spent time in Fino Sherry casks and then finished in wine vats. Those vats had previously been home to a Mauzac, a La Vigne de L'oubli from Southwest France. 43.4%. Much deeper in colour, this offered aromas of pears, even crisp apples. Some serious complexity here and a real biscuity note. Ginger and even a flick of lemongrass. Lots to love here.

Intravagan’za – 50% ABV

Golden bronze in colour. There is a richness here with notes of honey, caramel, vanilla and oatmeal. Lovely, mellow style with impeccable balance, such that gives little indication of its actual strength. Sitting at 50% ABV

in strength, cask strength, this spent three years maturing in a mix of Moscatel and Oloroso casks.

Overaged Malt - 43% ABV

This is seen by many as the flagship of the Couvreur range. It is a blend of single malts between twelve and twenty-seven years of age, much of which was spent in Pedro Ximenez casks. 43%. Made by way of double distillation. This is a complex, rich and brilliantly balanced whisky. Sea breezes, cigar boxes, almonds, florals, mild cocoa powder notes, a hint of smoke and much more. A must try whisky.