A Wine Trip to Lebanon

An Introduction to Lebanon

When I told friends and family that I was planning a solo trip to Lebanon, I received mostly raised eyebrows and cautious sideways glances.

In news media, much of the Middle East is often perceived through the lens of war. It’s true that Lebanon sits between the cross-hairs of a war-ravaged Syria to the east, and under perpetual threat of military confrontation with Israel in the south.

However, what people often forget is that Lebanon makes up a portion of the Fertile Crescent, once the cradle of civilisation to modern agriculture. This coincides with a rich history of wine production dating back 6,000 years to the Phoenicians. In fact, where the Nile was dubbed the ancient worlds bread basket, the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon was considered its vineyard.

Château Musar

I arrived an hour early for my tour of Château Musar, Lebanon’s most iconic vineyard. The winery is situated some 25 kilometres from Beirut in the hill town of Ghazir. A sweeping vista of orchards fan out across the hillside towards the bay of Jounei, with Beirut’s coastline a faint ribbon on the horizon.

After meeting with a receptionist I was given the green light to explore the grounds. Each room had the familiar hallmarks of a working winery; fermentation vats, a press, and numerous oak barrels, porous with the vinous liquid I was so looking forward to sample.

I was surprised to be greeted with the sweet, pungent smell of aniseed. Several hessian sacks filled with the spice were piled one on top of the other. In the next room were clay amphorae capped by plastic seals. A room I later learnt was used to make Arak; a spirit made with the sole ingredients of aniseed and grapes, not dissimilar to Ouzo.

With a little time to spare my host Fadia arrived. We walked down the road to where Musar began, in the 18^th century Castle Mzar. The grounds and cellars of this building are where Gaston Hochar began his vinicultural journey, and the first vintages were blended and stored in 1930.

During the 1950’s, Château Musar moved a short way up the road to the modern winery, which today produces over 700,000 bottles of wine each year. Fadia gave me a brief history of the wines and explained how Gaston Hochar’s son Serge grew Musar into the world-renowned winery it is today. Studying oenology at the University of Bordeaux, Serge imbibed many Bordeaux wine making methods, which today share a distinct lineage with Musar’s character.

We moved out to explore the winery in greater depth, past the presses and vats, then down a corridor plastered with images from Musar’s past. Here we ascended in a lift down several floors to the cellars.

Fadia explained that the cellars are more than 200 years old and store over two million bottles. Strings of cobwebs lace the walls. In fact, as an organic winery, spiders are actively encouraged to nest. Their purpose is to see off any invasive species of insect that could potentially harm the wine.

Behind a caged iron door is the home to Musar’s most prized selection of wines. The envy of collectors and competitions; there are early vintages stored here which date back the 1930’s.

Back at the tasting room, we began to sample the wines, starting with the sun kissed Musar Jeune White. This blend of Viognier, Vermentino, Chardonnay is very aromatic with a rounded body and abundant tropical fruit flavours.

Fadia also uncorked a bottle of Château Musar White 2005 (a blend of two local varietals, Obaideh and Merwah – allegedly a distant relative to Chardonnay and Semillon). We were told that we could only take a sniff at this time. Honeyed notes, citrus and tropical fruit aromas permeated the glass. Having spent 6-9 months in French oak, this wine shares a lineage with the white wines of Graves in Bordeaux and can be aged for a staggering 40 years. Fadia then sealed the bottle and we left the wines to open-up and evolve.

We then tried the very smooth, cranberry packed Musar Jeune Rose, followed by the spicy, and jammy Musar Jeune Red.

Next, a bottle of Château Musar Red 1998 was opened and laid aside to breathe. This was followed by the Château Musar Red 2005.  Visually the two wines could not look more different, with the 2005 a garnet colour and the 1998 a wonderful red-brick hue, fostering the translucence of a Pinot Noir.

We then tucked into a glass of Rouge (Gaston Hochar) 2016, which is Musar’s mid-range wine. It was an earthy red, with a streak of acidity, pepper, red cherries and cassis.

Returning to the Château Musar White 2005, the wine had mellowed greatly. The citrus dampened down, developing a balance of guava, pear, toasty oak and honey.

We moved back to the Château Musar Red 2005 with its cigar-box aromas and compilation of prunes, cassis and red fruit. Then we took the glass of Musar 1998 outside for our final taste beneath the Levantine sun. The wine was silky smooth, with notes of caramel, leather and herbaceous woody character. In that moment there was no place I would rather be.

I find it incredible that Musar had carried on producing wine throughout its fifteen years of civil war. The winery missed only one single vintage during the early stages of war in 1976. This, according to Fadia was due to a lack of petroleum to fuel the trucks. In 1984 heavy shelling in Lebanon meant that only 10% of the vintage survived to market, with two trucks able to pass from the vineyards in Bekaa to Ghazir. (a small amount of this rare vintage survives today.)

During the 2006 war with Israel, two flags were waved from the trucks to show that these were “grapes not guns”.

It’s hard to imagine a winery enduring such hardship and still producing such unique, quality wines. This surely stands as a testament to the fortitude of the Lebanese people and their wines, which I’m sure will be loved and admired for many years to come.