The Languedoc used to be painted with a very broad brush: it was the hot, arid ‘wine lake’ on the Mediterranean, dominated by cooperatives making rich, rustic (mostly red) wines. But of course, it is more nuanced than that. How can you generalize about a region that covers a half-million acres (about a quarter of France’s total vineyard area), stretching from the scrub-dotted coastline to the thickly forested, mountainous interior?
You can’t, as this spicy, floral, brightly fruited Saint-Chinian from Domaine La Madura illustrates. This isn’t some garden-variety chunky monkey, even though it incorporates usual-suspect Languedoc grapes such as Grenache, Carignane, and Syrah. Domaine La Madura, and Saint-Chinian in general, introduces a little more elevation and day/night temperature variation to the equation, resulting in a wine that is unmistakably 'Mediterranean'—herbal, sunny, ripe—and elegant at the same time. Do yourself a favor and grab some (or a lot) of this: the only thing ‘country’ about it is its price.
La Madura’s wines channel the spirit of other ‘Haut Languedoc’ (upper Languedoc) wines like the legendary Mas de Daumas Gassac; these are wines grown in the shadow of the Causses and Cévennes mountain ranges, a pine-forested hinterland in comparison to the lower-lying scrubland nearer to the coast. The geographic dichotomy is found within the Saint-Chinian AOC itself: more northerly locales within the appellation are characterized by schist soils, giving way in lower elevations to clay/limestone and sandstone. This patchwork of soil types was wholeheartedly embraced by husband/wife team Cyril and Nadia Bourgne, who acquired the property in 1999. Like many others in the modern-day Languedoc, the Bourgnes had arrived from a more ‘elite’ region—Bordeaux, where Cyril had worked at Lynch-Bages and Château Fieuzal—in search of something to call their own. They are extremely dedicated organic farmers, having received HVE (“High Environmental Value”) certification from the French Ministry of Agriculture in 2015; above all else, however, theirs is a dedication to “living” soils, not official certifications.
While still considered a warm, dry, ‘Mediterranean’ climate, La Madura’s vineyards are planted at elevations of 500 to 1,000 feet, introducing cooler nighttime temperatures. The often intense winds of the region help keep grapes dry and relatively rot-free, reducing the need for sprays or other intervention. Taking advantage of their great diversity of soil types—especially the schist, on which they grow Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre—the Bourgnes craft a more fine-grained, perfumed style of red from these varieties, wines more about dimension than density. In 2013, their “Classic” red combined 31% Grenache, 33% Carignane, 16% Mourvèdre and 20% Syrah, with the Grenache and Carignane fermented in concrete vats and the Syrah/Mourvèdre fermented and aged in used oak barrels. It is bottled unfined and unfiltered.
Do not let the price of this wine fool you: it is not just a juicy quaffer. The 2013 “Classic” has a dark ruby/purple core that extends to the rim, but that inkiness doesn’t carry through so much to the nose/palate. High-toned scents of lavender, violets, dried herbs, raspberry and that inimitable southern French scrub-brushy note known as ‘garrigue’ waft from the glass. The fruit is abundant, ripe, even kirsch-like, but there’s no alcohol heat or jamminess. On the palate it is round and generous but underpinned by acidity, dusty tannins, and mineral savor similar to the northern rhone. On the finish its floral perfume returns, lingering and bright. The combination of depth and nerve is what sets it apart: southern French Grenache can get syrupy, Carignane downright chunky and monolithic, but both display great balance and buoyancy here. The aromatics are joyfully, almost stereotypically Mediterranean, something out of a Richard Olney cookbook (he’s technically a Provence guy but close enough). Serve this aromatic delight in Burgundy stems at around 60+ degrees. Decanting wouldn’t hurt but it isn’t necessary. To eat, mingle its high-toned, herbaceous notes with these
baked stuffed tomatoes from another south-of-France-o-phile, Chez Panisse’s David Tanis. This pairing is Mediterranean summer in the middle of American winter, and I for one, am okay with that. Seriously, do this—this combination of authenticity, pedigree, and value doesn’t come along often.
