Before Beaujolais came back from the dead or the Jura exploded out of obscurity, there was the original French wine redemption story. The Languedoc: a stretch of southern France from Montpellier to Carcassonne known for decades as the undisputed champion of junk wine. Nobody thought it capable of producing anything else until perceptions began to change in the 1980s, but by the mid-2000s the Languedoc was being touted as vinous nirvana. Land was cheap, the weather was good, and the ripeness of grapes was matched only by the ambition of pointshungry winemakers.
Then it all went quiet. Big wine fell out of favour, cool-climate 'authenticity' was in. Attention shifted elsewhere. When was the last time you heard a proper wino raving about a discovery from the Languedoc? But there had been good reasons for the excitement two decades ago, and today's ambivalence can mean overlooking wines that rank among France's most characterful modern classics. The Languedoc renaissance began in 1970, when Aimé Guibert and his wife Véronique bought a rundown farmhouse and called it Mas de Daumas Gassac. They hadn't planned to grow grapes until a visit from their friend Henri Enjalbert, a world-renowned professor of geology at Bordeaux University. Amazed by the red gravel and glacial limestone soils, he implored them to plant a vineyard and suggested Cabernet Sauvignon would suit the Gassac Valley's terroir. Claret-loving Aimé agreed. They planted the first vines in 1972 and recruited the great Bordeaux oenologist Émile Peynaud as consultant winemaker, producing the first vintage in 1978.
lt is difficult to overstate how radical Mas de Daumas Gassac was at the time. Merchants baulked at selling something so expensive from such a rustic backwater, leaving Guibert to shift all 10,000 bottles by himself. But, palate-bypalate, esteemed figures from Hugh Johnson to Robert Parker began to take notice. Daumas Gassac was subversive, yes, but it was also delicious, and vintages such as '82 and '85 proved fine wine could be made in this corner of the Languedoc. When Laurent Vaillé, an oenology student and neighbour of Daumas Gassac, called round in the hope they would take him on as a trainee, there was already a full complement of stagiaires. Aimé recommended him to Eloi Dürrbach at Domaine de Trévallon, an introduction that would prove the catalyst for Vaillé's career, and lead to stints with master vignerons Gérard Chave and JeanFrançois Coche-Dury.
He returned in 1988 to establish Domaine de la Grange des Pères, painstakingly clearing garrigue scrubland from remote limestone slopes alongside his brother Bernard. lnitially they planted Syrah and Mourvèdre, followed by Cabernet Sauvignon, Counoise, Petit Verdot, Roussanne, Marsanne and Chardonnay. The inaugural 1992 release (a white followed in 1996) gained an immediate cult following, with critics marvelling at the complexity obtained from such young vines. Daumas Gassac had shown the Languedoc could compete with the world's best. Grange des Pères proved it was no fluke. But the two men were very different characters: Vaillé was a master craftsman, taciturn to the point of being considered a recluse. Guibert was a marketing visionary who rarely missed an opportunity to put Daumas Gassac in the spotlight. His appearance in Jonathan Nossiter's 2004 film Mondovino, which documented the fight against Robert Mondavi planting a vineyard in the Gossec Valley, shows Aimé Guibert at his pugnacious best.
The wines are different too. Daumas Gassac speaks the leafy, cedary language of Bordeaux, albeit in a riper southern accent, whereas Grange des Pères is more spicy, opulent and intense. The same is true of the whites, the latter sumptuous to the point of being heady, while the former is more svelte, only revealing itself after lime in the cellar. Of course, there are similarities. The unique microclimate of the limestone terroir they share (it can be 10°C cooler in their part of the Gassac Valley compared to the surrounding area), and the presence of Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend, give both wines a rare sense of clarity and freshness. Then there's the decision by both estates to label outside of France's appellation d'origine controlée system (AOC). Often presented as defiance against the authorities, the truth is there was no appellation for Daumas Gassac to reject when they started. lt wasn't until 1985 that AOC Coteaux du Languedoc was introduced and wines made using outsider grapes such as Cabernet Sauvignon didn't qualify, so Guibert continued to bottle as Vin de Pays - ultimately becoming a flagbearer for a designation that gives winemakers more freedom but is perceived as inferior to AOC. His refusal to fall in line inspired many others to follow suit. Although an admirer of Daumas Gassac, Olivier Jullien look a different view when creating Mas Jullien in 1985.
He saw appellations as a way for winemakers to raise standards collectively. However, the sheer enormity of AOC Coteaux du Languedoc (which covered almost the entire region) made it difficult to communicate any sense of place, so Olivier successfully lobbied for a more specific appellation northwest of Montpellier, which he christened 'Terrasses du Larzac'. Obsessed with understanding this terroir, Olivier bought and sold land here for over 30 years before settling on the 18ha he farms today. Vines around Jonquières are used for the plush but deeply mineral 'Autour de Jonquières’, his best-known red blend, and the bright, airy 'La Brune'. But what really sets Mas Jullien apart are two beautiful but remote vineyards. St Privat, from where he makes the supremely elegant 'Lous Rougeos’, is the highest point in the Terrasses du Larzac and had previously been abandoned because of how hard it is to work; while 'Carlan’, a gobsmackingly vertiginous vineyard enveloped by forest, gives a silken synthesis of power and finesse. Over time Olivier came to believe that local grapes - particularly Carignan and Cinsault, but also Grenache, Syrah and Mourvèdre - best communicate the essence of his terroir (the exception is a splash of Chenin Blanc in his waxy white blend, which is predominantly Carignan Blanc and Clairette). l've enjoyed bottles from Mas Jullien for many years and it seems that Olivier increases his mastery of these varieties with each vintage, adding ever more textural refinement to the distinctive character of each cuvée.
Of all the Languedoc estates, it's Grange des Pères that has most successfully built on its early cachet, although the future doesn't look straightforward following Laurent Vaillé's death in 2021. A spectacular recent tasting at the domaine suggests the immediate future is safe in Bernard's weathered hands, but the challenges of climate change and the relentless march of esca, a terminal vine disease, are real and present dangers without short-term answers. At 63 years old, Bernard will retire soon and, unlike at Daumas Gassac, there isn't an obvious heir to take over.
Eldest son Samuel now oversees operations at Daumas Gassac (Aimé Guibert passed away in 2016) and despite the long shadow cast by his father, there is appetite for gradual change. Aimé understood the importance of biodiversity, refusing to plant clones (ail vine material was taken from successful living vines, a process known as selection massalle) and expanding the initial vineyard to 50ha across 50 different varieties, though Cabernet Sauvignon still dominates the final blend. The next generation are doing even more work to integrate the vineyards with their environment, and an extensive agro-forestry plan is already improving the vines' ability to cope with increasing drought and disease pressure.
There has also been a shift away from the chewy tannic structure of earlier vintages towards a smoother, more supple style. Samuel credits the maturity of the Cabernet vines, which give more refined tannins as they age, but also highlights tweaks in the vinification process that have made the wine more accessible in its youth. While I understand the logic, a recent vertical tasting demonstrated how beautifully the wines from the '80s are holding up. lt remains to be seen whether younger vintages will prove as ageworthy, although 2020 and '21 are certainly full of promise. Other domaines from the '80s and '90s golden era are still going strong Peyre Rose, Montcalmès, d'Aupilhac and Roc d'Anglade - as are gifted winemakers such as Maxime Magnon, Jeff Coutelou and Didier Barral. The land is still cheap, the weather still good and the Languedoc certainly has the wines. Surely it's time for a second renaissance.