Wines of the Languedoc
(Credit Image: © Carlos Sanchez Pereyra/Design Pics via ZUMA Wire)
There are lots of different wines in the Languedoc, the French region that stretches from the River Rhone to the Corbières Mountains. First of all there are the crus or “growths” protected by their AOPs and which have been getting better and better since the seventies. We know the regional names: Fitou, Minervois, the Saint Chinian, beloved of the philosopher John Locke, Faugères, Pic-Saint-Loup and many more besides. With the exception of Pic-Saint-Loup there have been vineyards there since Roman times. Most of the wines are red, made from a sage mixture of Grenache Noir, Syrah and Carignan. In the good old days they were cheap. Now I have seen them nudge £50, pricing themselves well out of my league, although I still buy the St-Chinian Les Hauts de Saint Martin from the local Co-op, which is good value at £7.50.
The crus occupy the south-facing hills and there are the mostly lesser wines on the plains below. These owe their existence to the development of the railways in the second half of the nineteenth century. Instead of the weedy wines to be had then from grapes grown between Paris and the Loire, or the rotgut of Lower Normandy, the big city proletariat could drink “le gros rouge qui tâche” (big red stainers). These were blended in the warehouses of Bercy in Paris from the now disdained “dyeing” Teinturier varieties from the southern littoral: Alicante Bouchet or even the juicy but otherwise undistinguished Aramon.
These “stainers” were still around when I went to work in Parisian factories after leaving university. They came in litre bottles garlanded with six embossed stars and sported encouraging names like “Gévéor” or “Vin des Rochers, velours d’estomac” (stomach velvet). Puce-faced workers arrived at 7am, straight from a morning shot of coffee and calvados armed with a three-pack and a gamelle, containing their lunch. The first litre was polished off with their casse-croûte by 9.00 am.
In the eighties “health and safety” won the day and workers learned to drink less. The wines from the coastal flatlands had to seek new markets. Growers then came up with the idea of varietal wines and the plains were alive to the taste of Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. To some extent this has remained the case — there are oceans of Merlot in particular — although there is a bit more experimentation now, and a few more exotic grape varieties have been introduced.
Take the big co-operative at Foncalieu near the famous walled town of Carcassonne. In recent years they have followed the trend and turned over a lot of their production to making rosé wines, but their best rosé is the one that comes from the AOP Piquepoul and is a rare instance of the local black grape, Piquepoul Noir.
Vinified as a rosé (I suspect the skins don’t provide much colour anyway) it has a surprising intensity of flavour. The white wine I liked most from Foncalieu was the 2019 Le Versant Viognier. In the eighties the Viognier grape variety was hoiked out of the Northern Rhone where it had occupied a small acreage around Condrieu and touted as the Great White Saviour for any vineyard south of Lyon. Nine times out of ten it failed to impress. To be proper Viognier it needed to have the smell of apricot blossom. This one may be on the sweet side, but it has that scent, and a nice structure to back it up.
The other good white I had was from the Maison Ventenac in Cabardès north of Carcassonne. Given its position within the AOP it makes a range of AOP Cabardès wines too. Il était une fois, Coup de chance is a mixture of the Loire Valley variety Chenin Blanc and the Gros Manseng grape ordinarily from Jurançon in the South West. At 12 per cent it is notably light in alcohol and its freshness and acidity really does it credit.
Among the reds from Maison Ventenac I liked the Coup de sang best. It is a blend of the Bordeaux varieties Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc. Given the southern sun it is no surprise that it should be quite leathery and gutsy; something you can really get your teeth into. Foncalieu’s 2018 Ensedune Malbec also features a grape variety from elsewhere, in this instance more familiarly known as Côt from Cahors in the Lot Valley. Malbec is, however, hugely popular now as a result of the fruity, unchallenging, raspberry-scented wines from Argentina. Ensedune is not as fragrant as that, but I suspect it might go further down that road in the next couple of years, and the price is attractive.
The 2018 Edition limitée Syrah from Elan Bise comes from the Minervois without subscribing to the local AOP. The grape variety here is the Syrah that reigns supreme in the Northern Rhone. It lacks some of the heady peony perfume of granite-grown Syrah, but at this price I shouldn’t complain. It has the stuffing in it to make it the sort of thing that you might crave with your beef at Sunday lunch.
