Today’s wine is a game changer, an unrivaled value, and an opportunity to acquaint oneself with an under-explored corner of the French wine world. It is also a wine its importer usually presents to buyers “blind,” to avoid any pre-judging based on its place of origin.
Most of these buyers, including myself, are convinced the wine is top-quality white Burgundy from a premier Côte de Beaune appellation like Puligny or Meursault, only to learn that it is in fact from Limoux, in the foothills of the Pyrenees in France’s Roussillon region. This dramatic “reveal” is accompanied with a mention of the eminently reasonable price, and the deal’s as good as closed—the right sales technique, to say the least, for a wine that might otherwise be overlooked. Some wine lovers may be familiar with Limoux’s sparkling produce—Blanquette de Limoux and/or Crémant de Limoux—but I’d guess that most wine lovers would struggle to find Limoux on the French wine map (even though the region is thought to have produced sparkling wine before Champagne). What I appreciate most about today’s vibrant Chardonnay from Domaine de Mouscaillo is how it shines a bright light on a special place: Lest we paint the entire Languedoc-Roussillon with the same brush, here comes a brisk and focused Chardonnay from limestone soils and a cool climate, crafted by hands-on
vignerons working just four hectares of high-altitude vineyards in a gorgeous setting. I can’t overstate the value-for-dollar here: I wouldn’t hesitate to put it in a head-to-head tasting with white Burgundies costing twice/three times as much, and if I encountered it by-the-glass in a restaurant I’d be deeply impressed. If there’s a slot on your by-the-glass list at home, I’d strongly encourage plugging this one in!
The story, by the way, gets even better: Mouscaillo’s California importer, the Burgundy-centric Beaune Imports, recounts its introduction to the winery thusly:
“In the early 2000s, we received an unmarked sample bottle from [Loire Valley legend] Didier Dagueneau, who asked us to give him an honest assessment. It was a splendid Chardonnay, stony and pure, which reminded us of the whites from some of Burgundy’s chalkiest soils. When Didier explained that this was not a Burgundy, but a wine made by his friend Pierre Fort in Limoux, we jumped at the chance to meet him and see the property for ourselves. Pierre had been making wine in the Loire, but had just recently returned to his native village in Languedoc-Roussillon. When we finally met Pierre and his wife, Marie-Claire, and learned more about their work growing Chardonnay and Pinot Noir in the foothills of the Pyrenees, we were all the more enchanted.”
The Mouscaillo vineyards, mostly old vines averaging about 40 years of age, sit at nearly 500 meters’ altitude in the village of Roquetaillade. These are the foothills of the Pyrenees Mountains, which separate France and Spain, and the area feels the influence of both Atlantic and Mediterranean winds, making it considerably cooler than most of the Languedoc-Roussillon. The rocky soils of the region sit on a bedrock of limestone studded with ancient fossilized sea creatures, prompting comparisons to Chablis way to the north. Those with an image of Languedoc-Roussillon as a uniformly hot region producing richer, fatter whites will be surprised by the brightness and mineral nerve of this Chardonnay; it’s certainly a different animal than many of the whites of the nearby Côtes Catalanes (although many of those incorporate lower-acid varieties such as Roussanne and Grenache Blanc).
The Forts are farming with organic practices and ferment and age this Chardonnay in larger (450-600L) oak puncheons, with occasional stirring of the lees (
bâtonnage) employed throughout. This 2013 balances appealing creaminess with profound minerality and crisp, citrus-tinged fruit, all at a price that defies all logic. In the glass, it’s a bright straw-gold with hints of copper and green at the rim, with an expressive nose of yellow apple, Anjou pear, salted lemon, lime blossom, white flowers, chopped almonds, fresh cream, and crushed oyster shells. If tasting it blind, one could be persuaded into identifying it as something much fancier from Beaune. But here we are in the heights of Limoux, experiencing serious deliciousness in a wine that is ready to roll right now: Decant it about 30 minutes before serving at 50 degrees in all-purpose white wine stems, maybe with some juicy chicken cooked
en papillote (in a parchment bag). The clean flavors and sneaky richness feel perfectly suited to this amazingly well-priced bottle. Enjoy!
