The Flavor of Stone - The Wines of Muscadet Sevre et Maine
4/18/12 -
(Jo Landron, Domaine Louvetrie, Photo: Jill Lillie)
South and east of the French city of Nantes, about 25 kilometers upstream from where the Loire River empties into the Atlantic, the appellation of Muscadet–Sèvre et Maine covers approximately 8,000 hectares of the southern bank — plateaus and gently rolling hills, which descend to the Sèvre and Maine rivers, tributaries of the Loire. The scenery is bucolic but unspectacular, and the French consider the wine uninspiring. They buy it in supermarkets for three euros to wash down their oysters and mussels or to sip on vacation in Brittany. The average citizen of Nantes is unaware that great wine exists on his doorstep.
Coming from the Melon de Bourgogne grape in certain soils in the Pays Nantais, the aromas of Muscadet are subtle, hinting at lemon peel, pear, white peach, and flowers with, in a ripe vintage, often a touch of fennel or licorice. What makes the wine special is its extraordinary minerality: tastes of wet stone, flint, and earth with a saline, acidic finish. Although most current wine writers advise drinking Muscadet within two years of the vintage, Joseph de Camiran wrote in his 1937 book Le Vignoble du pays nantais that Muscadet “can be kept well until the tenth year... In excellent vintages like those of 1893, 1906, and 1928, one can keep them very much longer.” He noted, “Everyone who lived at the end of the last century drank many bottles of the delicious 1868.”
The production of Muscadet today is mostly controlled by large négociants and co-ops that, beginning in the 1960s, took advantage of chemical fertilizers, herbicides, pesticides, and machine harvesting to create economies of scale, pushing up volume and lowering prices. The French market and later the international one responded, and Muscadet plantings increased dramatically. Then came the sharp fall in France’s domestic wine consumption and the loss of global markets to cheaper wines from South America and Australia, and Muscadet was left burdened with overproduction and low quality. Prices collapsed. And yet the best growers continue to produce complex, refreshing Muscadets with bracing acidity. At 10.5 to 13 degrees alcohol and lacking heavy or pronounced fruit flavors, young Muscadet goes with any subtle cuisine, complementing raw seafood dishes, simply prepared poultry, white meats, goat cheeses, and mildly seasoned Asian food. Some bottles age beautifully for 20 years or more. These wines sell in the US for $13 to $25. The growers, caught in a market that favors quantity over quality, are for the most part unrecognized and unrewarded in France as abroad.
Raphaël Schirmer of the University of Bordeaux, in his new book Muscadet: Histoire et géographie du vignoble nantais, examines why a region with such potential failed to achieve the level of prestige attained by regions such as Bordeaux or Burgundy. He cites a weak Roman presence in the area followed by the lack of well-established abbeys or religious orders, which in Europe were instrumental in developing vineyards. (“The city, the abbey, the château, here played little role as opposed to other regions.”) Numerous historians relate that in the 17th century the Dutch gained influence in the vineyards and introduced the Folle Blanche grape from Charente to produce acidic whites for distillation in brandy. By the early 1600s, the prolific, cold-tolerant Melon de Bourgogne had arrived from Burgundy. After Europe’s Little Ice Age, and especially the “black winter” of 1709, when most of the region’s crops were destroyed, the Melon further replaced other varieties. (Recent genetic studies indicate that, like Chardonnay, Gamay, Romorantin, Aligoté, and many lesser-known varieties, Melon was an offspring of the noble Pinot Noir and the Gouais Blanc, a hardy, prolific grape brought by the Romans from Croatia to Gaul in the third century.) In the 1700s, despite the continued importance of brandy production, Schirmer describes a dramatic increase in quality in the Pays Nantais and cites numerous references to crus receiving higher prices, principally around the villages of Le Pallet, Gorges, and Monnières. This progress was short-lived, however, as the revolution and the Wars of the Vendée led to devastation and the departure of the Dutch; the region turned to producing cheap whites for local consumption in Nantes. After the vineyards were destroyed by the phylloxera epidemic in the late 1800s, they were replanted, sometimes with hybrids. But decline set in until the growers came together and created the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) of Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine (as it was first called), recognized in 1936. That established the Melon as the only legal grape and regulated yields and vineyard area.
The Melon de Bourgogne is “not a noble grape,” according to Jancis Robinson’s authoritative Oxford Companion to Wine. Yet despite, or perhaps because of, the grape’s lack of breeding, the land imparts its particular qualities to the wine. During the Precambrian era, at a point more than a billion years ago perhaps (geologists disagree), a vast upwelling deep within the earth brought molten material, mostly granite, to the surface. It formed what is called the Massif Armoricain, which underlies Brittany, Normandy, and the lower Loire Valley. A later period of enormous pressures and uplifts left folds of metamorphic schists and gneiss with veins of the original granites and of the dark, granular, very hard stone called gabbro, a more alkaline volcanic rock similar to basalt. Millions of years of erosion then leveled the region along the Sèvre and Maine, so it lacks the distinctive features of more famous wine regions.
The ancient granites and the minerals they contain, principally quartz, feldspar, and mica, have weathered into nutrient-rich clays. Combined with sands, silicas, and various other stones, they make vineyard soils that are unique in France. The geologist James Wilson, in his fine book, Terroir, writes that these granite soils are acidic, which helps the vines assimilate micronutrients, such as iron, zinc, manganese, and copper. The granites — occurring elsewhere in France only in certain Alsatian grands crus (Sommerberg, Brand, Schlossberg), the volcanic hills of the Haut-Beaujolais, and the western edge of the Massif Central (Hermitage, Côte Rôtie, Cornas) — give the best Muscadets their ethereal, palate-exciting minerality when young, and the acidity and structure necessary to evolve into wines of great complexity and distinction.
While it has been evident to the Muscadet growers for centuries that the wines from schist, gneiss, granite, and gabbro terroirs have different properties, the science behind that is only partially understood. “Plants don’t eat rocks, per se, but sip on mineral concoctions derived from them,” Wilson writes. The soil’s organic matter and the minerals weathered from bedrock are transformed into nutrients and micronutrients by the soil’s myriad flora and fauna. Vines take up these nutrients, directly through membranes in the root hairs and indirectly through symbiotic relationships with mycorrhizal fungi. The substances in a particular soil are in a sense interpreted by the vines through their genetics and biochemistry, which produce phenolic, terpenic, flavonoid, and other scented compounds. The situation is incredibly complex, extending to the local populations of wild yeasts. So do we know what produces the fruit and mineral flavors of Muscadet? We could, for example, pick from terpenes that give citric or floral tastes or phenolic compounds that bring astringent flavors, but really the subject hasn’t been studied in the required detail, and so we don’t know.
André-Michel Brégeon, Gorges
(Gabbro and Clay)
Since André-Michel Brégeon started in 1975 on just three hectares in the village of Gorges near Clisson, he has been making some of the finest wines in the region. Tall and somewhat heavyset, he wears the ponytail and drooping mustache of an aging hippie. He is outgoing and affable, but he shows an edge of frustration at the region’s mediocrity and lax standards, and, one suspects, at the lack of recognition for his own hard work.
My recent visit to Brégeon began with a quick trip to the parking lot of the nearby community center below his vineyards, where fresh excavation had revealed a cross-section of the hill. The vines in Gorges sit atop dark gabbro, massive, fissured boulders that allow deep penetration by the roots. The shallow, nutrient-rich clay topsoil, Brégeon said, makes the wines the region’s densest and longest-lasting. He does not plow, which is difficult in the heavy clay. Instead he leaves the vegetation to compete with the vines, and he fertilizes very little, so as to encourage the roots to grow deep. He prunes relatively short, looking for moderate yields of about 45 hectoliters per hectare, although in recent difficult vintages his yields have been much lower. Brégeon emphasized that the grapes must be harvested by hand — something fewer than 5 percent of Muscadet producers do — and the fruit must be brought quickly and carefully to the press in small containers to minimize damage to it. With only seven or eight pickers, he makes small, slow pressings. The juice flows by gravity into the vats and is only partially clarified, leaving a large portion of the lees, which bring richness to the wine. The fermentations proceed spontaneously with only wild yeasts. No sulfur dioxide is added then, although Brégeon does add some later on, saying: “You can make good wine without sulfur, but it doesn’t last long.”
The practice of aging Muscadet sur lie — on the lees left from fermentation — rose from the tradition of setting certain barrels aside for special occasions. Left undisturbed until the spring after the harvest, these wines develop more complex flavors from the lees and they retain a slight pétillance (sparkle) from the carbon dioxide of fermentation. That combined with their brisk acidity makes them lively and refreshing.
Brégeon’s Muscadet–Sèvre et Maine sur lie is an exceptional wine, dense and well-structured, with aromas of wet stones and lemon, hints of anise, and flavors of citrus confit and white fruits. In 1982, he made an old-vines cuvée that he kept on the lees for three years. “I heard about other vignerons doing this in 1976, such as Pierre Luneau, and I decided to try it. My customers loved it, so because of their demand I’ve been doing it ever since.” In the 1990s, together with other winemakers in the village, he created the “Gorgeois” label; these wines must come from gabbro near the Sèvre and must be kept on the lees for at least 24 months. He finally bottled the 2002 in November 2009, yet it may not be labeled “sur lie” under the AOC rules, which require bottling between March 1 and November 30 of the year following the harvest.
At a winter tasting, Brégeon’s young Gorgeois bottlings were elegant, quite dense, and stony on the palate with subtle citrus, floral, and mineral aromas. Older vintages began to show their character. The 1997 was riper, more evolved and exotic. The 1996 had beautiful balance and acidity, was very mineral, and will last another 20 years. In 1990, the second of two drought years, yields were lower and the wine was more complex, with mushroom and vegetal notes, candied citrus, lemon confit, stone, and menthol on the palate, and a slight hint of caramel in the finish. The 1989 was more elegant, fresher and more rounded, with waves of citrus and red fruits. Both were profound, mature wines — finely drawn portraits of the grape, the vintage, and the soil, suited to full flavored fish or perhaps seared scallops and wild mushrooms.
As Brégeon nears retirement, the future of his estate is in doubt. Few young vignerons are willing to embark on such a difficult and economically unrewarding career as producing Muscadet. We are happy to hear that a young vigneron has joined Michel, hopefully ensuring the continuation of this great estate.
Marc Ollivier, Domaine de la Pepière, Maisdon-sur-Sèvre
(Granite de Clisson and Granite de Château Thébaud)
The n249 heading west from Nantes toward Vallet neatly bisects the Muscadet–Sèvre et Maine appellation, but even with a GPS you’d become hopelessly lost trying to make your way through La Haie Fouassière, St. Fiacre, and Château Thébaud to reach Marc Ollivier’s Domaine de la Pepière near Maisdon. Better to take the autoroute to the Aigrefeuille exit and head north. After you cross the River Maine, the road winds through a pretty wooded valley, and a tiny road to the right leads up to La Pepière. At this southwestern edge of the appellation, the slopes and hills are composed largely of two types of granite, Clisson and Château Thébaud, which contain veins of metamorphic gneiss with amphibolite stones.
Ollivier is a middle-aged, heavily built man with a weathered face, full beard, and an impressive if thinning shock of long, curly hair. He’s an outdoorsman, often off hunting or fishing in Brittany when not in the vineyard. “As a teenager I was always cutting school to go fishing,” he said, “and when I realized that the science track I was on would lead to a desk job in the city, I looked for a profession that would allow me to live in the country. So I said to myself, ‘Wine — why not?’ and I entered a wine program for adults in Macon. I went not really being certain that this métier was going to interest me, and I returned completely impassioned.”
After working with his uncle for five years, Ollivier borrowed some equipment, rented a neighbor’s vines, and made his first wine in 1984. The land he later bought is not only well situated but includes healthy old vines that are completely massale-selection — planted with varied cuttings from existing plants grafted onto rootstocks, as opposed to just one or a few nursery clones. Recent vineyard purchases have brought the estate to 25 hectares. That and more sales in bottle, rather than in bulk to a co-op, have enabled him to hire an assistant (Remi Branger, who has now become his partner) and produce a number of different wines from his varied terroir.
Ollivier is near the end of a three-year program of conversion for organic certification. He has always pruned for low yields, and in the difficult years from 2006 through 2008 he averaged only about 20 hectoliters per hectare. Like the other top Muscadet growers, he practices traditional winemaking; he has always harvested by hand and fermented with wild yeasts.
Modern wineries harvest by machine and add sulfur dioxide to suppress or eliminate wild yeasts and prevent bacterial spoilage. Then they add a commercial strain of Saccharomyces cerevisiae, which gives a quick, reliable fermentation and often enhances certain “typical” fruit aromas and flavors. For most wine, cultured yeasts make good economic sense. They can tolerate higher alcohol, ensuring that fermentations will finish, and they can bring a host of other advantages tailored to a winemaker’s specific needs. In the New World, extensive use of agricultural chemicals and relatively young vineyards may limit the diversity and population of wild yeasts, and the expression of fruit is the winemaker’s primary goal. In Muscadet, like most winemaking regions of France, local officials recommend particular yeasts for making wine with a range of aromas and flavors typical for the region. Roughly 95 percent of producers use them.
Yet small-scale wineries have good reasons to prefer wild yeasts. Of the more than 600 species of yeast, 15 to 20 can play a role in wine. Most important are members of the Saccharomyces family, especially S. cerevisiae, which are not usually found extensively in vineyards but are present in the winery on equipment and in tanks or barrels. Other yeasts, for simplicity often called “non-Saccharomyces,” are more numerous in the vineyard and generally responsible for the early stages of fermentation. In a wild yeast fermentation, which is generally slower, different non-Saccharomyces wild yeasts appear to act in a complex succession, as each is best able to handle the changing proportions of alcohol, sugar, and other nutrients, the alcohol-tolerant S. cerevisiae dominating at the end.
Each yeast contributes important aromatic and physical properties to the wine. Numerous microbiologists, cited in an article by Jolly and others in the South African Journal of Enology and Viticulture in 2006, have concluded that “spontaneously fermented wines, although carrying a higher risk of spoilage, are generally regarded as having improved complexity, mouthfeel (texture) and integration of flavours.” This is particularly true, I believe, in a long-time organic or biodynamic vineyard, where there are more yeasts and the soil is more alive and brings to the vine roots a more complete array of nutrients.
“When I started making wine with my uncle,” Ollivier said to me, “we often used a starter yeast, but I saw that it wasn’t necessary, and after all people have been making wine without it for thousands of years... Finally, I began to feel that the yeast was part of the terroir; it gives complexity to the wine. And I want to make a wine with a direct bond with the soil.”
His basic cuvée, Domaine de la Pepière, Muscadet–Sèvre et Maine sur lie, comes from ten- to 60-year-old vines on high ground above the Maine, partly on Clisson granite, partly on Château Thébaud granite. The first bottling, generally in March, from the youngest vines, is a softer, fruitier wine that is ready to drink young. The second bottling, in April or May, from older vines has more subtle citrus and white-fruit aromas and a more mineral palate with refreshing acidity and a longer finish. This delightful wine costs only about $14 in the US.
Since 1988, Ollivier has produced an old-vines bottling called “Clos des Briords” from a small parcel on Château Thébaud granite. When young, rather than being aromatic, the wine is atmospheric, like sea air on a rocky coast in Brittany. With age it shows its greatness. The 1996 is now in its youthful prime, with slightly petrollike lemon-oil aromas, a weighty, stone-flavored palate, finishing with brisk acidity. It’s an extraordinary match for a full-flavored fish preparation with fennel or beurre blanc.
In 2005, Ollivier produced a new cuvée called “Granite de Clisson” from a small parcel of 60- to 90-year-old vines within the Pepière vineyard. He made it again in 2007, keeping the wine on the lees for 24 months. The last few were “vachement intéressant,” he said, “as I let the temperature rise a bit in the tank during the summer and there was a great deal of extraction from the lees.” He prefers the 2007 to the 2005, because there is a bit more acidity and freshness, but both wines are excellent and should develop beautifully over the next 15 to 20 years.
“I’m not clever enough to tell you which molecules give the ‘mineral’ impression,” Ollivier said, “but one thing is certain: the more the wines age, the more the difference between the soils is evident.” All his grapes are Melon and in the cellar all the wine is treated the same. “For me, where the variety and the vinification are identical, it’s proof of the influence of terroir.”
Ollivier is happy to have obtained a small parcel on gneiss with clay and amphibolite stones in the fine Gras Moutons vineyard, on a slope above the Maine in St. Fiacre, “one of the best sites in the AOC,” he said. “But I must say that I prefer the granite terroirs; they give a more original wine.”
Pierre, Monique, and Pierre-Marie
Luneau-Papin, Domaine Pierre de la Grange, Le Landreau (Schist, Mica-Schist, Granite)
Across the Sèvre around La Haie Fouassière, La Chappelle Heulin, and Le Landreau, the land flattens out into terrasses and slopes of the granites’ metamorphic offspring — schist, gneiss, and orthogneiss, peppered with stones of quartz and amphibolite. There’s clay weathered from the mica and feldspar, but mixed with it are river sand and gravel that make the soils lighter, more porous. The wines seem softer, more open and aromatically complex when young, and yet the best examples age gracefully. The 30-hectare Domaine Pierre de la Grange in Le Landreau produces some of the finest Muscadets.
The property has been in Pierre Luneau-Papin’s family for over 200 years. He is tall and slender, carefully dressed and somewhat professorial; his wife, Monique, is vivacious and energetic, an organizer, and very much involved in the winery. Both are well-educated, thoughtful. Their modern two-story metal winery has gleaming aboveground stainless-steel tanks and temperature-controlled glass or ceramic-lined vats for fermentation and aging built into the cuverie floor, as is common in the appellation. The grapes are pressed gently, and the juice is left to settle and clarify at low temperatures. In some vintages, an extended low-temperature maceration extracts phenolic compounds from the skins, giving more aroma and richness to the wines when young, but it does not seem to diminish their ability to age. “We don’t let the temperatures of the vats go above about 16 degrees” — about 60 degrees F — said Pierre, “in order to lengthen the fermentations and use all the indigenous yeasts.”
Two wines come from the mica-schist soils around the winery, similar to the mica-bearing granites found in Condrieu. Clos des Allées comes from vines at least 35 years old, and Domaine Pierre de la Grange comes from 50-year-old vines. Both, drunk young, show attractive floral, lime, and stony aromas. They are round and softer than the wines from the granite and gabbro parcels of Ollivier and Brégeon; they offer great immediate pleasure and will drink well for three to five years. The Clos les Pierres Blanches, from 60-plus-year-old vines on schist, has similar aromatics, an extra minerality, and a bit of spice and smoke in the finish.
Since 2001, the Luneau-Papins have produced a special cuvée called Clos des Noelles, from a two-hectare plot with very old vines on schist soils. Aged on the lees for at least 30 months, this wine shows aromatic presence and weight on the palate. “I don’t feel that there is a big difference in aging potential between the granite and schist terroirs,” remarks Pierre. “I’m very confident that long aging is possible with this wine.” The 2002 had gorgeous lemon, mint, and thyme aromas and still tasted very young. The 2001, from a low-yielding, high-acidity vintage, was tight, very mineral, and also young. The Clos des Noelles wines will certainly benefit from ten to 20 years of aging and then will be more delicate than the granite and gabbro wines.
My favorite Luneau-Papin wine, “Le L d’Or,” is a cuvée from old vines on granite with some mica-schist in Vallet. Usually bottled young and receiving the sur lie appellation, “Le L d’Or” has a refreshing, stony character with pronounced aromas that in riper vintages can include anise and exotic fruits and a more supple texture. The 2005, currently on the market, is an astonishingly complete wine, lovely to drink now, but possessing the acidity and substance to age. The 1997, a vintage of unusual ripeness, would be the perfect accompaniment to monkfish or lobster. The 1989, a great vintage in the Loire, is less forward but superbly elegant, still dominated by stone and earth flavors and firm acidity. The 1976 wine, coming from a season of heat and drought, aged for six years in tanks under CO2 and still tastes fresh, with mushroom, almond, caramel, and lemon aromas and citric and mineral acidity.
My last visit to the Luneau-Papins began with a hair-raising ride, with Pierre at the wheel, to see a new three-hectare parcel of which they are very proud. Located at the top of La Butte de la Roche, a dome of igneous rock overlooking the marshes of Goulaine, the site is high in quartz stones, but after 25 years of poor management the soil will require a great deal of work. In charge of the project is Pierre and Monique’s son, Pierre-Marie, a tall, good-natured young man who studied enology in Bordeaux and seems firmly installed beside his parents. He is convinced of the importance of organic viticulture, partly through the influence of his neighbor, Guy Bossard, and he would like to convert the best parcels to biodynamics.
Guy Bossard, Domaine de l’Écu, Le Landreau (Gneiss, Orthogneiss, Granite)
Quick to laugh and frequently joking, Guy Bossard is often the center of attention. He is an energetic, youthful man of perhaps 60, barrel-chested but otherwise slight, with a large round face, bushy eyebrows, and a forceful personality. He chose to work organically in the 1970s, when those around him were turning to chemical treatments and machine harvesters. He has been biodynamic since 1992, applying the preparations at the required times and plowing six times a year. During the summer he lets the vegetation grow to compete with the vines, most of which are mass-selection, the average age being 25 to 30 years. His 22 hectares include gneiss and orthogneiss plus a small parcel on granite in Le Landreau. The wines are bottled according to terroir, but sometimes not within the time period specified by the sur lie regulations.
In the winery’s comfortable tasting room, Bossard poured his “Cuvée Classique,” a lovely, balanced Muscadet from young vines, showing the length and minerality typical of his wines. Of the three terroir cuvées, the “Expression de Gneiss” is the most forward, with citrus and almond aromas, and in riper vintages also licorice, melon, and fennel. The “Expression d’Orthogneiss” adds a layer of herbal aromas, with more minerality and bitterness in the finish. The “Expression de Granite” is markedly different, with subtle mint and salty mineral aromas in the austere 2007 vintage, more melon, herbal, and menthol in the richer 2006, but both have a core of earth and mineral acidity, showing the wines’ aging potential. The same wine from 1998, a somewhat difficult, high-acidity vintage, was showing secondary aromas of mushroom, caramel, and hay over earth and melon with a strong, mineral finish. These rich Muscadets, to reveal themselves fully, often need decanting, or opening the day before.
It’s clear to me that, compared with conventionally farmed Muscadet, biodynamic agriculture has brought Bossard’s wines added density and potential aromatic and mineral expression. His unwavering commitment to these principles has been costly, however, because his lower yields have not been offset by the higher prices that biodynamic wines often receive in other regions.
As we walked in the parcel named L’Écu, we stopped to see an exposed section of metamorphic rock, whose folds and layers of yellowish mineral were topped by thin soil. While completely different in appearance from the granites and gabbros, the composition is chemically similar though structurally altered and rich in manganese. Bossard proudly scooped up the rich, dark soil, the product of almost 40 years of organic farming, and pointed to the health and vigor of his vines. We started to talk about the life of the soil and the way the vine is nourished by the networks of mycorrhizal fungi. Plants do not live just on nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium; they depend on microbes in the soil to release the dozens of other nutrients. The role of the fungi is important but poorly understood: in return for carbohydrates, they provide nutrients the vine is unable to absorb by itself. Bossard demurred from going into the subject further. “Winemakers often lack humility,” he said. “We don’t need to explain everything, but to do our best to express the soil. We must leave the magic.”
The next night, Bossard brought a 1992 and a 1990 “Cuvée Hermine d’Or” (which later became the “Expression de Granite”) to dinner with other winemakers at Villa Mon Rêve, a restaurant outside Nantes. The 1992, from an unexceptional vintage, was superb; the 1990 was very young and magical with many years to go. Bossard had slipped his favorite Louis Armstrong CD into the restaurant’s sound system and we sipped beautiful old Muscadet as the last notes of Louis’s solo on “Stardust” faded away. “A nice moment,” said Guy, raising his glass.
Jo Landron, Domaine de la Louvetrie,
La Haie Fouassière (Gneiss, Orthogneiss, Amphibolites)
Jo Landron’s Domaine de la Louvetrie, with its unassuming collection of low stone and metal buildings, lies on high ground near La Haie-Fouassière. Trim and vigorous in his 50s, he wears a luxuriant mustache that makes him look as if he had leapt out of a novel by Alexandre Dumas. Landron, open, warm, and engaging, promotes his wines tirelessly, traveling throughout France and making yearly trips to the US. His personality and the elegance of his wines have gained them entry into many good restaurants, and yet he too is frustrated by low prices and relative lack of recognition. The estate was created in the 1940s by Landron’s father. After receiving a degree in enology, Landron joined him in 1979 and took over ten years later, when he began to lower yields and decrease treatments in the vineyard. His vineyards are now certified organic, and he follows biodynamic principles.
As we walked through the vines near the winery, Landron detoured into a neighbor’s land, where the dirt was packed hard on top and dry, thin, and lifeless below. A handful ran through his fingers like sand. Back among his own vines, the dirt beneath the tangles of vegetation was darker, held together by roots and fungi, teeming with insects and worms. Its smell was complex and rich. Landron’s plants, even leafless in February, were obviously healthier than his neighbor’s. “In biodynamics,” he said, “one doesn’t fight against the various maladies, one gives the plant the health and energy to defend itself.” Recent damp years were difficult for organic growers, however, as their permitted applications of copper sulfate, powdered quartz, silica, and other natural preparations have limited effect against powdery mildew. (The use of copper sulfate by organic and biodynamic growers is controversial, because it can be harmful to vineyard workers and because too much can poison soil fauna, including earthworms. Organic farming groups have researched and developed alternatives, but so far none seems adequate, although the application of petit lait, or whey, has shown encouraging results.) Landron’s yields were 25 hectoliters per hectare in 2007 and only 15 in 2008, compared with his normal 35 to 40. Especially in challenging vintages, this 26-hectare estate is physically and financially difficult to maintain organically.
On the plateau near the winery, the soils are clay and sand over gneiss. As we descended toward the Sèvre, we began to see large numbers of rough, oblong greenish rocks on the surface. These were amphibolite, a metamorphic rock rich in iron and magnesium. The wine from this spot, after four months on the lees, is bottled as “Amphibolite Nature.” It is limpid and light, at 11 degrees of alcohol, with subtle hints of white fruits and lemon rind and an intriguing saline, acidic finish. Drunk within a year or two of the vintage, it is the perfect apéritif or accompaniment to oysters.
A short drive away, a gently sloping plateau gives a quite different wine, the “Hermine d’Or.” Coming from gneiss and clay, with sandstone and pebbles, also rich in iron, its aromas are more pronounced, with lemon, bitter melon, and white pepper. There is refreshing acidity with hints of exotic fruits, licorice, and anise and a bit more structure. Best served with shellfish when young, it will soften over a few years and accompany a wide range of fish or poultry dishes.
The top Landron wine, “Le Fief du Breil” (reviewed in AoE 81), comes from a hillside on orthogneiss with clay and quantities of small quartz stones. This wine is typically flinty and somewhat closed when young — the 2005 was just beginning to show well. (A bottle opened three days before our tasting was beautifully complex.) The 2004, one of my favorite Muscadets, was a bit bigger and had outstanding balance and acidity. The 2000 showed lemon-confit aromas and mature flavors of ripe melon and mushroom with earthy and metallic notes and should continue to improve for a few more years. Perhaps these wines from gneiss and orthogneiss don’t age quite as well as the granite- and gabbro-based cuvées elsewhere, but they give enormous enjoyment and are superb with food. Due to Landron’s years of organic work, the wines have a focus and honesty that is hard to describe: the aromas are subtle and fascinating, the flavors are alive and earthy — joyful expressions of soil and fruit and human labor.
A Way Forward for Muscadet?
“It’s difficult for young people to continue,” Marc Ollivier said. “If their parents are winemakers, they see how little money is made, and if they sell to négociants they don’t make a living. And today banks won’t lend to a young vigneron because prices are so low.” About 50 top growers are involved in an effort to create a grand cru classification for Muscadet, which they recognize as their best chance for higher prices and economic survival. Four “Crus Communals,” defined by terroir and location, are proposed: “Gorgeois” on gabbro, “Clisson” on granite, “Le Pallet” on orthogneiss and gabbro, and “Goulaine” on mica-schists and gneiss. “The objective,” according to Romain Mayet of the Syndicat de Défense de l’AOC Muscadet, “is to recognize by Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée certain great Muscadets known for their richness, their complexity, and their capacity to age.” Each Cru Communal would designate the best vineyards in its sector, limit yields, mandate a minimum aging on the lees of 17 to 24 months (depending on the cru), and each producer’s wine would have to be accepted by a tasting panel. Dossiers on the four crus have been submitted to the Institut National des Appellations d’Origine, but official approval may take years, even as large new bottling plants are opening, which could further depress prices and subvert the image of quality. As wine lovers acknowledged in the 18th and 19th centuries, and as I have found repeatedly in tasting, the Pays Nantais can produce outstanding wines of terroir that age beautifully and that offer the consumer an outstanding and affordable accompaniment to diverse cuisines. Let us hope that changes in the rules for AOC Muscadet–Sèvre et Maine and more attention from the press and consumers will enable the tradition to continue. ( As of Spring 2012, the following Cru Communal have been approved by the INAO: Clisson, Gorges, Le Pallet, Chateau Thebaud, Monnieres-Saint Fiacre, Goulaine and Sangueze)
Recommended Producers of Muscadet–Sèvre et Maine
These five vignerons have excellent vineyard sites, harvest by hand, ferment with wild yeasts, and intervene minimally in the cellar. They work with the goal of expressing the terroir. Visits by appointment.
André-Michel Brégeon
Les Guisseaux, Gorges
tel 02.4006.9319, no website
10 hectares
Imported by Kermit Lynch, California.
Domaine de l’Écu (Guy Bossard)
Le Bretonnière Briacé
Le Landreau
tel 02.4006.4091, www.domainedelecu-muscadet.com
22 hectares, certified biodynamic since 1992
Imported by Kysela Père et Fils, Virginia;
Organic Vintages, California.
Domaine Pierre de la Grange
(Pierre and Monique Luneau-Papin)
La Grange
Le Landreau
tel 02.4006.4527, no website
43 hectares
Imported by Louis/Dressner Selections, New York.
Domaine de la Louvetrie (Jo Landron)
3 Impasse Fief du Breil
La Haie-Fouassière
tel 02.4054.8327, www.domaines-landron.com
26 hectares, certified organic since 1999
(also Château de la Carzière, 10 hectares,
certified organic since 2000)
Numerous importers, including Candid Wines, Illinois; Potomac Selections, Maryland; Ideal Wines & Spirits, Massachusetts; Eagle Eye Imports, Michigan;
Martin Scott Wines, New York; Vin de Garde, Oregon; Empire Distributors, North Carolina.
Domaine de la Pepière (Marc Ollivier)
La Pepière
Maisdon-sur-Sèvre
tel 02.4003.8119, no website
25 hectares, in conversion to organic
Imported by Louis/Dressner Selections, New York.
These producers also work well, with certain wines, suggested below, standing out.
Château Chasseloir (Chéreau Carré, Bernard Chéreau), St. Fiacre: “Cuvée des Ceps Centenaire”
(made from 100-year-old vines).
Domaine des Cognettes (Stéphane et Vincent Perraud), Clisson: “Tentation des Cognettes” and
“Granite de Clisson.”
Domaine le Fay d’Homme (Vincent Caille), Monnières:
“Clos de la Févrie.”
Domaine de la Haute Févrie (Claude Branger), Maisdon-sur-Sèvre: “L’Excellence” and “Terroirs Les Gras Moutons.”
Domaine R de la Grange (Rémy Luneau), Le Landreau:
“Cuvée Vieilles Vignes” and “Schistes de Goulaine.”
Château de la Ragotière (Les Frères Couillaud), Vallet: “Sélection Vieilles Vignes.”
Les Vignes de St. Vincent (Michel Delhommeau), Monnières: “Cuvée Harmonie.”
A Few Restaurants in the Pays Nantais
Villa Mon Rêve Located along the Loire outside Nantes, this restaurant is the delightfully old-fashioned center of traditional gastronomy of the region. Gérard Ryngel, the chef, features local fish and shellfish, such as langoustines from the Lac de Grand Lieu, and, of course, brochet au beurre blanc. The extensive list of Muscadets includes older vintages, such as 1976 from Château Chasseloir (Chéreau Carré) and 1959 and 1947 from Château de la Ragotière.
route des Bords de Loire
Basse Goulaine (just outside Nantes)
tel 02.4003.5550, www.villa-mon-reve.com
closed Sunday evening and Tuesday
Brasserie la Cigale Every visitor to Nantes seems to go to this grand brasserie, which retains its original Belle Époque décor. The surroundings may be more interesting than the food, but you can eat good local oysters and drink Jo Landron’s “Amphibolite Nature.”
4 place Graslin, Nantes
tel 02.5184.9494, www.lacigale.com
open every day from 7:30 a.m. to 12:30 a.m.
Auberge du Vignoble A spot to have a good meal while
touring the vineyards; the wine list features good estates in Le Landreau.
4 rue Aubert (in the center of the hamlet)
Le Landreau (in the appellation, about 6 kilometers north of Vallet)
tel 02.4006.4294, no website
open daily for lunch and, only in July and August, Tuesday through Friday for dinner
Restaurant de la Vallée The dining room is perched above the river Sèvre with a view of the town of Clisson, which was destroyed in the mid-1800s during the Wars of the Vendée and rebuilt in an Italianate style. The menu features well-prepared contemporary cuisine and wines from Clisson.
1 rue de la Vallée, Clisson (about 40 minutes
southwest of Nantes)
tel 02.4054.3623, www.restaurant-delavallee.com
closed Sunday and Monday in July and August,
otherwise open for lunch Tuesday through Sunday and for dinner Friday and Saturday ;
Text and photographs Copyright 2010 by Edward Behr and David Lillie
