The night prior proved to be a bit frustrating as we took the drive up to beautiful Gourdon. I wanted Joy to see this hilltop village with amazing views to the world below and to give her an idea just how hard the bike course was on Sunday. Having looked in Rick Steve’s book on Provence, to be sure the restaurant where he suggests eating dinner would be open, we donned our nice cloths and started the near hour trek up hill. When Joy saw the village she demanded we pull over so she could get a picture. “Amazing!” she said and I too was excited to see this village up close having only breezed through it at nine miles an hour and sweat pouring down my face. But when we got to the parking lot outside the city wall there were few cars and a large family leaving. Not a good sign I thought but it is Wednesday after all. But our stroll to the restaurant, called the Eagle’s Nest in French, proved this place was a ghost town. Everything was shut tight and all we could hear were the occasional clank of dinnerware behind closed shutters. So, we enjoyed the sky-high views and then headed back down to La Napoule for bistro dining at what is a very popular brasserie. The food is reasonable and good but our sights were pretty high (literally and figuratively) this night.
Thursday was a day I had been looking forward to since planning this trip. As most of the readers of this blog know, I am a wine snob. I know way too much about the subject and often get curious looks when people allow my hobby and my profession to collide in their minds. However when the opportunity to learn more about wine is afforded, like going to France, I’m going to take advantage of it.
France, arguably produces the world’s finest wines. However, being a California boy, I too am proud of my country and its produce. I have access to our finest wines and can navigate easily through the backroads of our famed vineyards. I know winemakers on a first name basis, have been invited to work a harvest and I have won, on multiple occasions, the California Wine Tasting Championship as an amateur in the professional division (an annual affair of blind tasting to determine palate superiority among amateurs and professionals)! So, with all this bragging I was ready to get humbled yet further educated in the place where my favorite wine varieties (varietals) are originally produced; the Rhone region.
It was a two-hour drive from our apartment in Theoule. What, Bordeaux is to Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Sauvignon Blanc and Burgundy is to Pinot Noir and Chardonnay; the Rhone is to Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre, Viognier and Roussane (just to name a few). You see, in France, regions determine the grapes grown. Because of climate and soils these areas will produce optimally for the selected varietals but here it can also be about the blend or cuvee being determined by a sub-region. To the north of the Rhone region the wines of Cote Rotie are primarily Syrah. However, to the south in places like Gigondas and Chateauneuf du Pape, Grenache is king. And it is to this part of the Rhone valley I wanted to explore!
Our arrival was guided with little knowledge or bearings other than I knew the names of a few villages and needed to get off the autoroute near Orange. Once off the freeway and on the small roads we navigated multiple round-abouts to roll into Gigondas at about 11:10. This charming village was already bustling with tourists; mostly French and some Brits. We went into the tourist information center and got a local map of regional wineries but the affable lady inside told us about a tasting room right next door, Caveau du Gigondas, that pours all the wines of all the wineries of Gigondas and sells at the same price as the winery thereby giving us no reason to drive from place to place. This sounded like a good idea to start so we traveled twenty paces and into a crowded room filled with bottles on the wall. At the counter we noticed dozens of tiny little bottles all different with small white labels. The kind attendant behind the counter just handed us a sheet and pen and asked us to select what we would like. Out of what were nearly a hundred samples we tried four from various producers going from younger (06) to older (01). These wines were beautiful with rich blue-rimmed color and sweet berry and violet aromas. The older they got the more spice was produced. After selecting a couple and thanking our host we strolled out on the town square right at lunch. It is a small area covered by four sycamore trees that make a perfect canopy and setting for what was to be our first ever 2-hour lunch!
Here in France just about everything except, restaurants and eateries close between 12pm and 2pm; in some cases not until 4pm. Most places also stay open to 7pm but don’t push your luck trying to get in at closing time (we’ve learned this the hard way)! So, because we were right in the middle of the square at noon we had the pick of the restaurants we chose the one that already had the most people seated; Du Verre a l’Assiette. The menu, a four-foot chalkboard was placed next to us against a chair. It was broken down in salads, meat/cheese plates, specials, grilled meats and desserts. Joy chose an endive salad of which was so full of endive she said, “I could never afford this much endive back home! I chose one of the specials that was essentially a baked meatball of beef, lamb and foie gras in a tomato sauce accompanied by a butter lettuce salad that was so good and comforting I wanted to go take a nap. Enjoying the gentle breeze and causal pace you just wanted to sit and take it in. Our waiter asked if we wanted some coffee and dessert. At first because this in not a tradition we enjoy back home we said no but later realizing where we were and what we were doing we threw caution to the Mistral (the name for the winds in Rhone) and ordered coffee and a most dense chocolate torte bathed in a crème anglase and sprinkled with roasted, chopped hazelnuts. After paying the bill and walking to the car I looked at my watch to see 1:52. Wow… in our hustle, bustle society perhaps we would do well to let our food settle and minds relax before we tackle the next agenda item of our days… which for us this day was going to a winery we heard had an American winemaker from the Bay Area.
It was less then a ten minute drive up to Rasteau when pulling into the sleepy Domaine des Girasols we were met by a young teenage boy on a “Razor” who opened the door of the winery for us. His grandmother met us at the door apologizing she was cleaning the dishes from lunch. Pouring us a nice sample of Rose’ she asked us where in the states we were from. We told her near Napa since we knew the region would be known to her. Within a minute the boy returned with his father. “Hi, I’m John!” My son tells me you’re from Napa!” Ahhh! Someone who not only speaks our language but with our Califonia dialect… I didn’t realize we had one until then. For the next two hours we went on a wonderful tour of wine, politics, religion and quilted, needle works of antique silks (they are hosting an exhibition beginning today). He and his wife Francoise met while working at Joseph Phelps back in the early 90’s and has been the winemaker at Girasoles for fourteen years. The wines are big and jammy with plenty of mineral and spice. There is a distinctive structure to these wines that hold the flavors consistently from first sip to the finish but giving you plenty of time to discover the layers of fruit and earth within. John showed us the gravity flow operation which is very different than the California wineries I’m familiar with and wanted to sample us on each unique 600 liter barrel but it was evident to all of us, everyone else in the family was hard at work but John who was chatting it up with new-found, old buddies from the states. So we selected a couple of our favorite cuvees to take home so he could get back to work. On our way out we asked John if there was a winery in Chateauneuf du Pape we should specifically try. “Oh, yeah… go to my friends place… Roger Sobon. You’ll love it.”
So, off to Chateauneuf du Pape we drove. This famous little region is known as the king of the Rhones. The blends vary but the quality is usually expressed in the prices of these fleshy wines. Chateauneuf du Pape (castle of the Pope) wines are easily marked by the trademark crest of the pope embossed in the bottle and the gothic lettering of the regions name. The most famous of all is Chateau de Beaucastel but many are available at near equal quality and at a fraction of the price.
Driving into this tiny region on winding roads the vineyards display head-pruned vines that have been there for centuries. Looking up into the village you can’t miss the castle ruins that jut into the sky as a clear landmark of where you’re going. We stopped briefly for a wine map at the tourist center and within a half a mile turned into Roger Sobon. The small, classy tasting room was quiet and empty. We were met by Didier a gentle host who worked hard to communicate with us in English so we could have the best experience while there. Again, asking what we liked, and after my brief “I love Rhones” speech he poured a Grenache Blanc which blew us away… not only because it was so good but because it was only 4 euros! They also had a red table wine for 2.20 euro but it wasn’t to our liking. But the 8 euro, 2006 Lirac was a steel. Drinking like a $40 California cuvee. This was my favorite wine and I got a sense it too was the favorite of those who work there. The three Chateauneuf du Pape specific wines; the Les Olivets, Reserve and Prestige were exceptional and for my money the Les Olivets was not too different than the more pricey Prestige.
Dedier, after pouring us a nice glass of Prestige asked us to follow him and walked us through their simple operation. Explaining their wine making process I could tell he was happy to talk to an American who could appreciate their efforts to make exceptional wines (like my amazement of their process of maceration… much longer than most). The highlight was the quick side tour in their library, which feature wines that are nearly a hundred years old dating back to the start of the winery. Upon returning to the tasting room we made our purchases and graciously thanked our host who kindly walked us out to the car.
Before leaving we had to make our way up the hill for a look out toward the Rhone valley to the west and a hazy view of Mount Ventoux to the east (Mount Ventoux is known as the toughest Tour de France mountain stage when it’s included in the tour) that was easily detected with its white rock cap, which mimics the look of snow. Standing below the towering ruins we sighed, soaked it in and said… let’s go home.
It was an amazing day! One that I’ll not soon forget. One that I’ll get to taste again and again for a little while. One that I’d love to share with you with glass in hand.
