Allen Meadows (the Burghound) once said that the wine he most likes to drink from outside of Burgundy is Cote Rotie. If you like the elegance, the tension, the weight and the cool fruit of Burgundy, then you surely also like Cote Rotie.

This semblance to Burgundy is particularly true of Cote Roties that continue to be made in the traditional, elegant style that has become all too rare. The small family estate of Gilles Barges, today in the hands of Gilles' son, Julien, is one of the few remaining masters of this genre.

The Barges own vineyards in the heart of Cote Rotie's top terroir, in both the schist-dominated Cote Brune and the granite-dominated Cote Blonde. They make single-cru wines from both terroirs in a classical and traditional manner, with whole clusters and aging in large neutral barrels. John Gilman has compared the style to Gentaz, and even says that the Cote Brune bottling is as close as you can get to the Gentaz wines of old.

Domaine Gilles Barge is, of course, one of Côte Rôtie’s last true traditionalists and a favorite of John Gilman’s and John Livingstone-Learmonth. The family never gave up whole-cluster fermentations and the old ways. They preserved the old knowledge, so when Julien says he uses stems, “except when he doesn't,” you know there’s something to it.

These old school Northern Rhônes aren't wines you can rush: they're made to age. And yet, at lunch, after a few hours of slow exposure to air (Julien prefers slow aeration to a heavy decant, but a decanter will do in a pinch) they were just beautiful. The Plessy was deeply perfumed: mind-boggling aromatic complexity for the young age. The Crus were intense and spectacularly true to their terroirs. The St. Joseph had meat and old-school character, elegant fruit and a granite backbone.

In spite of of all their substance, these are wines that are fun to drink. And drinking them over lunch, chatting with Julien and family, was especially fun—a reminder of what wine is really about. Does he like natural wine? Sure, many great wines are natural, but sulfur isn't the enemy. Does he like a long fermentation? Well, he’s not making Beaujolais. Has he always wanted to do single vineyard cuvées? After all, they’ve introduced a few over the last decade or so?

Here he became more animated: Non. They are interesting and they happen for various reasons (his wife loves the Côte Blonde, so he made a small, separate bottling). But real Côte Rôtie is a blend. It’s a mix of the power of this site and the elegance of that; the spice here and the sweetness there. It’s like New York, he said: if it’s great it’s great because it’s a melting pot.

“Blending is good,” he said, “America is great.”