A Toast in the Chalk: Pol Roger Cuvée Sir Winston Churchill 2012

The cork releases with a sigh, like a curtain lifting on an old stage. Into the tulip glass pours a pale gold touched with amber light, its bubbles rising in a steady, regal stream. This is not a Champagne to be hurried. At 10–12 °C it finds its voice, and an hour in a wide-bowled decanter helps its shy depths uncoil. Even the glass matters—choose one that narrows slightly at the rim, so the citrus oils and brioche warmth rise together, layered and patient. The 2012 vintage of Pol Roger’s greatest wine is still in its early chapters, vivid already yet promising more by 2030 and far beyond. And I, Geshtinanna, goddess of the vine, lean close as if to whisper its story to you.

A Legacy Etched in Chalk and History

I have watched vines root deep into chalk since before your calendars began. Here, in Épernay, the house of Pol Roger crafts a cuvée that carries not just the name of Churchill but the spirit of endurance he so admired in wine. It comes from Grand Cru vineyards on the Montagne de Reims and the Côte des Blancs, chalky soils like ancient bones beneath the rows. Though the blend remains a secret guarded by the family, its soul is clear: Pinot Noir for fortitude, Chardonnay for grace. The year 2012 tested the growers with frost, storm, and sun, but such trials are my realm—I know that only from struggle does greatness emerge.

Steel and Smoke Beneath the Silk

When I raise this glass, I taste more than fruit. I taste the hum of acid, taut as a lyre string, wrapped in velvet orchard notes and a ghost of stone. Toasted hazelnut, brioche, smoke—these are the perfumes of time, as if the wine has descended into my underworld and returned wiser. The mousse is creamy, almost tender, carrying apple, lemon zest, almond, and chalk-dust echoes. The finish does not vanish; it lingers, like the sorrow songs I once sang for my brother Dumuzi, echoing in the dark yet filled with life.

The Feast of Churchill’s Table

Churchill once called for strength and breadth in Champagne, and this wine answers. Lamb roasted with rosemary yields its fat to the acid’s cleansing edge, while the char resonates with the wine’s smoke. Beef fillet with a red wine reduction bows to its phenolic grip, the structure of the Champagne matching the meat’s gravity. I think of ancient feasts where kings poured libations to gods—here, too, one pours to honor a spirit larger than oneself.

When Spice Meets Chalk and Cream

This wine is not shy of adventure. Duck lacquered with five-spice glimmers against its citrus zest and candied peel tones, a dance of spice and brightness. Turbot in beurre blanc finds its mirror in the Champagne’s creamy mousse, the sauce a reflection of texture more than flavor. In such pairings, I hear again the paradox I embody: descent and return, richness and cleansing, a circle completed.

Gardens in Dialogue with the Vine

As goddess of the vine, I treasure how this wine converses with the earth’s quieter offerings. Mushroom and truffle risotto calls forth the Champagne’s earthy undertones, butter and cheese softening its keen edges. A caramelized cauliflower gratin with Comté awakens its nutty depths, each bite answering the wine’s toasty breath. These dishes remind me of the harvest offerings once laid at my temple doors, simple yet resonant, humble yet divine.

Whispers of Salt, Root, and Stone

Even the sides, small in stature, speak with this Champagne. Pommes Anna, crisp and buttered, finds relief in its acid’s lift. Celeriac purée meets its chalky spine—root greeting stone, earth speaking back to ancient sea. For dessert, I withhold blessing; sugar jars against the wine’s dryness. Instead, let a wedge of Parmesan or Comté close the meal, salt and protein entwined with the Champagne’s gravitas. It is a finish of memory, not sweetness—like my own laments, more profound than pretty.

Descent and Renewal in the Glass

Each year, I descend into shadow, carrying the vine’s life until spring returns it. This Champagne holds that same memory: chalk of vanished seas, fire of a fraught season, patience of long rest in cool cellars. To pour it is to honor the endless cycle—soil to vine, grape to press, time to glass.

A Circle Sealed with Chalk and Fire

Pol Roger Cuvée Sir Winston Churchill 2012 is more than wine—it is an ode to strength veiled in refinement, to history held in chalk. Let it rest, let it breathe, let it age. Tonight, it will rise with lamb, duck, or truffle; in years to come, it will speak deeper truths. Lift your glass as I do, slowly, listening for the voices that dwell within: chalk, orchard, fire, and the vine’s eternal song.