Gaillac is a medieval town on the Tarn River located 50 km northwest of Toulouse, where you'll almost definitely be served a gastronomic meal of foie gras, cassoulet, and roquefort cheese at the various bistros and restaurants which spill out onto its old brick streets. This is one of France's richest and heaviest cuisines, and the wines are equally assertive in their flavor, weight, and strength.

The wines of Gaillac are anything but homogenous. Gaillac produces a range of wine styles exemplified by the excessive number of varietals allowed in its AOP. White and sparkling wines can be produced from Ondenc, Len de l'el, and Mauzac, while red wines can be made from by blending indigenous varietals such as Duras with Bordeaux varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot.

There's also the wild and gamey Fer Servadou which makes minor appearances in the various red wine blends of the French Sud-Ouest. But Fer Servadou is something of a specialty in Gaillac where it is known locally as Braucol. I've only tasted a few wines labeled Braucol and never really had a read on the grape until tasting Nicolas Hirissou's excellent 100% Braucol, named "Cuvée Florentin," at Domaine du Moulin in Gaillac.

Cuvée Florentin is a serious and sincere effort to show the very best of what Gaillac is capable of, and as Nicolas explained, is a varietal that is rarely produced to its fullest extent. "It can be very green and astringent unless worked the right way," said Nicolas, meaning that the varietal needs to be held to very low yields to show its best qualities. At its best, Braucol can be a densely concentrated, black-fruited beauty with a certain wildness about it, which Nicolas' 2008 Cuvée Florentin 100% Braucol demonstrated perfectly.

Braucol might very well be the surreptitious star of Gaillac but the appellation produces so many different types of wine - and a whole lot of it - that finding a good Braucol like Nicolas' one is like finding a diamond in the rough. To receive offers on hard-to-find, small production wines we invite you to join our client list. 

In Kermit Lynch’s excellent book, Adventures on the Wine Route, he writes about not bothering with wineries which store their wine in tanks outdoors. You’ll have to excuse my selfishness for not taking the time to look up the page for a citation: whenever I open that book, I compulsively read it for several hours.

In addition to outdoor storage tanks, I find sales reps, glossy pamphlets, and tasting-room swag or chotskies to be a sign of . . . insincerity. So you can imagine my relief when we were greeted by a hungry herd of sheep at Château le Roc in Fronton.

Like much of the French Sud-Ouest, the Fronton appellation is comprised of rural, piecemeal farms and tiny villages far removed from the egotism of Bordeaux to the north and the sophistication of Toulouse just to the south. Fronton's red wine, based on the little known Négrette varietal, is in fact the wine most typically consumed in Toulousain cafés, and as we discovered, makes a fine match with the local version of cassoulet served with (what else?) duck confit and spicy garlic sausages. But Négrette seemed to show far less rusticity than the Duras and Fer flavored wines of neighboring Gaillac, and certainly lacked the abrasive tannins of Madiran's Tannat. Négrette, if anything, seemed more akin to a more deeply colored Beaujolais, or in the hands of Frédéric Ribes, an especially explosively aromatic style of Red Burgundy.

By "explosively aromatic," I am of course referring to the whole-cluster style of Pinot Noir produced at Domaine Dujac, Domaine de l'Arlot, DRC, and Cristom winery in Oregon. I’ve had an on-again-off-again love affair with this style over the years (currently an on-again relationship). My prior discontent with this style was caused by how it easily overwhelms terroir, but it nevertheless produces something intensely pleasurable in certain wines of certain vintages.

My visit to Frédéric Ribes' cellar at Château le Roc shed new light on this technique. The wines I tasted were obviously made in this style, yet displayed remarkable delineation from one wine to the next. Ribes' ultimate expression of Négrette comes in the form of Le Roc's Cuvée Don Quichotte, a 50% Négrette and 50% Syrah (the appellation stipulates the blend only needs be 50% Négrette), a wine of intense perfume and character and great aging potential. After a full day of tasting in Fronton, Négrette was a proven noble varietal and Le Roc its benchmark producer.

These are remarkable wines from an area we'll only occasionally feature in our offers as we tend to focus on more northerly appellations. That said, I find it impossible to overlook sunshine wines of quality and distinction such as these. If you'd like to purchase Château le Roc and other unique wines of terroir, I invite you to join our client list.

The term "casse-croûte" translates as "snack" wherever French is spoken, and in much of France often means a sandwich or even a hamburger with frites. In Gascony, however, it means something special.

Gascony is in the southwest French region famous for d’Artagnan, Armagnac, and hearty cooking. It’s also where the ritual of "casse-croûte" is less open to interpretation. It is often eaten at 10 a.m. as a small meal between breakfast and lunch, and it is most certainly caloric and filling. It always includes bread, often includes meat cooked in its own fat (see duck confit), but rillettes, foie gras, and numerous pâtés are eaten as well.

And what meal is complete without wine? A glass of simple vin de Gascogne likely accompanies the mid-morning repast. If this all sounds a bit much to ingest before noon, consider its origins: long, hard mornings of demanding physical labor in the fields. If your day commenced at 4 a.m. with farm chores and plowing, you would also likely hunger for the sustenance and warmth that casse-croûte provides.

Fortunately, on our recent trip to Gascony, our hosts at Château de Millet demanded little work of us other than to taste their surprisingly delicious dry white Vin de Pays known as Côtes de Gascogne. White wine makes for nearly 90% of the total output of Gascony, because the VdP area is identical to that of Armagnac. Colombard, Petit and Gros Manseng, Len de l'El, Sauvignon Blanc, Sémillon, Muscadelle, and Ugni Blanc all make appearances, as well as Baco-22A (pictured above), the only hybrid permitted by the French AOP (AOC) system. Colombard is the primary varietal in most of the region’s white wine blends, giving very tart but refreshing zippy wines that would be equally as delicious with shellfish as they are a counter to fatty meats and charcuterie.

In addition to their squeaky-clean and refreshing Côtes de Gascogne, Domaine de Millet is also a very fine producer of Armagnac, a drink I find interesting, but admittedly am still getting used to. Armagnac seems entirely appropriate in its home region of Gascony, is no doubt a complex beverage worthy of study, and does a knockout job of warming the body on a cold and blustery day. But after our casse-croûte of wine, bread, and duck confit, the Armagnac encouraged nap time, and then it was time for time for lunch!

I have to admit that when I saw "10 a.m.: visit very old vines" on our itinerary, I was perplexed. No doubt one of the reasons I travel regularly to Europe’s wine-producing areas is to walk the vineyards of the wines we offer through our e-mails. This non-specific visit to "very old vines" seemed odd given the short time we had. Did they think I’d never seen an "old vine"?

Quasi history: André Dubosc is the founder of Plaimont Producteurs, the leading co-op and producer of the Saint-Mont appellation. He’s also something of an elder statesman for the region’s wines, and based on his reception everywhere we went, is highly respected amongst his fellow vignerons. Monsieur Dubosc drove us to Sarragachies in Saint-Mont, stopping first at the very old monastery, which is the source of local pride. Our next stop: René Pédebernade’s vineyard.

Monsieur Dubosc has spent his life researching, replanting, and promoting local grapes varieties, which, without him, would have otherwise disappeared. As a trained ampelographer (expert in the study of vines and grapes), he set up the Conservatory of Saint-Mont wines, and saved strains of grapes such as Arrufiac, Petit Courbu, Pinenc, and Tannat from utter extinction! Much of his work has focused on the vineyard of René Pédebernade, which, according to the French wine critic Michel Bettane, contains the oldest vines in France.

Some of the vines are believed to be 300 years old, giving new meaning to the term Vieilles Vignes (old vines). As we learned, the vineyard exists only because of monsieur Pédebernade’s tenacity and the vine’s imperviousness to phylloxera. The vines are rooted in ten meters of sand, making them invincible to the pest. They no longer produce a crop, and Pédebernade is paid for tending them regardless. When a vine needs to be re-propagated, old man Pédebernade employs marcotage and simply sticks the shoot back in the ground. In the age of clonal selection and scientific precision, the Dubosc-Pédebernade project represents bio-diversity and preservation. What’s remarkable is that Pédebernade’s vines give a glimpse into viticulture hundreds of years ago, and they have preserved varietals long since forgotten.

 

Just prior to departing San Francisco for a six day tour of southwest France, a colleague of mine commented on the rustic nature of the wines produced in le Midi. He also noted the challenge these wines present when attempting to pair them with a meal at a modern table. The difficulty is that wines like Madiran and Pacherenc du Vic-Bilh appear to be wines of a different era. The days of cassecroute, the hearty mid-morning snack of meat, bread, and wine that sustained farm workers until lunch is only today an occasional indulgence. Likewise, the multi-course, three-hour lunch consisting of foie gras, wine, cheese, and dessert (like the lunch we had today) is rarely seen because people have work to do after they eat lunch. If this hearty way of eating was once typical of Gascony, it only makes sense that the wines of this region would match this hearty country fare. But what happens when people start opting for a salad at their desk? What happens when tastes change?

Pacherenc du Vic-Bilh (pronounced “pasher-rank doo veek bill”) is the white wine of Madiran. If its name sounds old-fashioned, it is. In a different time, before trellising, each vine was held up by an individual stake, called a “pacher,” and Vic-Bilh is local patois meaning “old country.” The name doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. Perhaps it would’ve been more convenient to name it Madiran Blanc. André Béheity, president of the winegrowers association in Madiran and Pacherenc, explained that the name had been in use long before France began designating areas as AOC.

The name never changed, and neither did the style of the wines. Pacherenc du Vic-Bilh is produced with local grape varieties, namely Petit Manseng, a white grape with small berries and the ability to build high sugars while maintaining acidity. It would seem the perfect material for sweet botrytised wine if it weren’t for its naturally thick skin and the Föhn, a strong Pyrenees wind that never gives noble rot a chance this region. Despite the wind, Petit Manseng hangs tough, and most of it has yet to be picked here in mid-November. The grapes are in fact dehydrating on the vine as I write this, resulting in passerillage, an off-dry wine that tastes like a juicy Palisade peach crossed with the sweetest Jonathan apple. It also shows signature bitterness, a result of those thick skins, and razor-edged sharpness due to its high acidity. What can you eat with such a wine?

First, Pacherenc, I now realize, is the ultimate wine for foie gras. The acidity slices through fatty foie gras and keeps your palate alive, while the sweet-apple fruitiness counters its salty flavor. Trust me; you can consume a shameful amount of foie gras when paired with this wine. Pacherenc is also in form with charcuterie, as was demonstrated to me the alongside a huge plate of cochon noir de Bigorre. Blue-veined and hard sheep’s-milk cheeses are brilliant, and Pacherenc could of course work in a lightly-sweet dessert like the sugared crêpes served to me yesterday. But Pacherenc also works where savory and sweet flavors meet (e.g., pork chops and apple sauce) and its acid/sugar balance seems like a no-brainer for sweet and sour of Cantonese cooking. And what about holiday meals where sweet and salty foods are intermingled on the table? Honey-glazed ham may have finally met its match, and maybe squashes, sweet potatoes, and yams. Watch out family gatherings, for Pancherenc du Vic-Bilh is headed your way!

I’ve arrived in Gascony in southwest France, specifically in the appellation of Saint Mont, in the western half of the Gers department. I’m here with Olivia Melendez from the Sopexa group and Robert Whitley, Publisher of Wine Review Online, for a tour of several AOCs in what is loosely grouped together and known as “le Midi.” For the next six days we’ll be visiting producers, tasting the wines, and eating the hearty fare the region is famous for.

We’ll be based in Saint Mont at Château de Projan for the first three days before spending our last couple of nights in Touluse. Château de Projan is a very comfortable hotel, and its owners, Christine and Richard Poullain, have been gracious hosts. Within our first five minutes here, Christine began pouring us Saint Mont blanc and Richard began churning out sugared crepes from the kitchen faster than we could eat them. This particular Saint Mont Blanc (2009 Plaimont) was finished in a dry style (it may have five grams of RS or so), but worked remarkably well with the lightly-sweetened crepes. This would be the day’s first of two unexpected-but-successful pairings.

The Saint Mont appellation, not surprisingly, derives its name from a Benedictine monastery founded in 1050. Its wines were granted VDQS status in 1981 for reds and rosés produced from Tannat and Pinenc, and the Cabernets and whites from Arrufiac, Petit Courbu, and Gros Manseng. We’ll be visiting the Monastère Saint Mont on in a few days, so I’ll save my thoughts on these wines until then. Instead, I’ll write a few words about last night’s dinner with four vignerons from nearby Madiran, featuring Richard’s eye-opening menu.

Madiran, in most people’s view, is often described as a tannic beast of a wine. That’s because of its cépage which must be at least 60% Tannat with up to 40% Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc. Tannat is tannic, of course, and the Cabernets were written into the AOC in 1948 as a way of softening out Tannat’s astringency. The tannin of Madiran is present, you feel it in every wine, and even those made specifically in an approachable style intended for the export market display noticeable tannic chewiness. Overall, however, these particular Madirans (ranging in style from traditional to modern) showed highly-polished and sweet tannic firmness, but were not astringent.

A great deal of credit for the taming of Tannat should be given to Patrick Ducournau,   who in 1985 began to encourage the producers of Madiran to microbillage (micro oxygenate). The practice, which is now widespread, is thought to have begun here. My conversation over dinner with Philippe Olçomendy (Cave de Crouseilles), Didier Barré, (Domaine Berthoumieu), and André Béheity (President, Madiran/Pacherenc Interprofessional Section) made one thing abundantly clear: the future of Madiran lies in getting the best from Tannat and being less dependent on the ameliorating affect of using international varietals such as Cabernet.

The potential of Madiran showed greatly when Marie Oulié of Domaine du Crampilh shared her superb Madiran Vielles Vignes 2006 made from 100% Tannat. This not only showed how distinctive the varietal can be aromatically, but also showed a sweet mid-palate, moderate alcohol, while maintaining Madiran’s signature structural backbone. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for meals of multiple-course foie gras and duck confit, but these producers surprised us with a pairing of salmon and Madiran which was wildly successful. Chef Richard did a little of his own amelioration, roasting the salmon and serving it with a sauce of reduced Madiran and demi-glace, but on this night, Tannat’s tannins were put into their place and our dinner shone as a whole.

“…one of the New France’s most startlingly improved wine regions: great grape varieties, forgotten terroirs of outstanding quality, and the burning desire to prove a point.” –Andrew Jefford, The New France

Southwest France offers some of the country's best wine values and individual expressions of terroir yet these wines are drastically underrepresented in the U.S. market. I'm as guilty as anyone for not drinking these as often as I should and I needed a wine map while tasting a lineup of these today with fellow Master Sommelier Fred Dexheimer.

Makeshift wine map of Southwest France presented by Fred Dexheimer, MS

The Southwest, or Sud-Ouest, is not a coheisive region like Burgundy or Champagne but a collection of twenty or so unique appellations. Situated just south of Bordeaux, a few of these appellations employ Bordeaux varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon or Malbec. There are also many local and obscure varietals in use such as Fer and Négrette which make for some really interesting wines. This is the region of Gascony and home of many classic French dishes. The red wines are at their best with duck confit or Cassoulet while sweet Juraçon makes for an ideal pairing with foie gras or salty blue cheese. What I like most about these wines is their rusticity and the way they transport you to rural France where the people are hardworking but friendly and the cuisine is rich and hearty. If you'd like to receive our future offers of wines from Southwest France sign-up for our e-mails.

Seven Southwest France Wines You Should Know:

• Cahors - North of Toulouse on the River Lot producing Malbec in two styles: fruity/early-drinking and serious/tannic (Vieux Chaors). Recommended: Clos la Coutale
• Madiran - Near the Pyrénées producing dark and tannic red wines from Tannat and Cabernets. Recommended: Alain Brumont (large estate, no micro-ox, new wood)
• Gaillac - Northest of Toulouse on the River Tarn producing many styles from Duras, Fer, Mauzac, Ondenc. Recommended: Domaine du Moulin Méthode Gaillaçoise
• Bergerac - Near Bordeaux producing wines from similar grapes (i.e. Cabernets and Merlot for the reds). Recommended: Tour des Gendres (40-ha, bio, traditional)
• Juraçon - Near the Pyrénées producing dry (sec) and sweet wines from Gros Manseng and Petite Manseng. Recommended: Cauhapé (perfectionist Henri Ramonteu)
• Fronton - Just north of Toulouse producing lovely blended red wines mainly from Négrette Recommended: Domaine Le Roc (20-ha, various ferment vessels)
• Irouléguy - In the French Pyrénées producing red wines from Tannat and whites from Courbu and Mansengs. Recommended: Herri Mina (winemaker at Pétrus)

I'd love to hear about your experiences with these wines. Does anyone have any well-aged Cahors stashed away in their cellars? Have you had a food pairing epiphany with a crisp bottle of Irouléguy blanc?